Chrysanthemums
by TheXenoRaptor
Summary: A marine medic and xenomorph are brought together by chance as the galaxy is torn apart by civil war. They develop a friendship and then a romance, but how will they fare in the wild and chaotic field of galactic politics? M/M Xenomorph x Human slash, with lots of lemony goodness starting in the second chapter!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is the first chapter of my first story here on . It's nothing special, just a nice, character driven story about a guy who falls in love with a Xenomorph. There will be some gay smut (As explicit (or not) as will allow. Please have mercy on me, senpai censor), and I suspect that that is what a good portion of you are here for. It won't be in this chapter though, so you'll have to contain yourself. I'll mark the chapters it is in. Special thanks to XenoInLove and AmorousXenomorph for pioneering this kind of story, and I totally recommend their work on this site. Go check em' out (There's smut!).

Here's the obligatory part where I state, for the record and the law, that I am not making money from this and that I do not own the Alien franchise. But these are my original characters and story, so the Force of Copyright is on my side there. Also I bet Giger would be totally fine with explicit smut based off his work, since he intentionally put sexual themes in his art to begin with.

As a small lore note, this series will be treating the first two movies as canon, along with the original printing of the Aliens: Outbreak comic from Dark Horse comics. Why? Because I like that continuity better, and it's my personal head-canon. Some other comics may also be referenced, and if they are, then consider them canon.

In effect, this means that Ripley, Newt, and Hicks returned to Earth after Aliens and went on with their lives, as detailed by the original print of the comic.

And it goes without saying that if you don't like it, then don't read it. It's not my fault if you have terrible tastes in literature :P

As always, I love feedback, so let it rip! On to the story!

*Manual insertion of space here because Fanfiction won't let me just put a normal space here because formatting sucks*

It was supposed to be a routine mission. That's what corporal Meyers had said in front of them in the briefing room. It was just a quick drop to secure a Weyland-Yutani medical research installation. Nothing too special. Just another day in the Revolutionary Navy of the Outer Rim.

Private George Canner bounced in his seat as the landing shuttle hit another bubble of turbulence. There was a storm over the landing site, but they couldn't wait for it to subside. They had to secure the planet and move on to keep the offensive going.

"All right marines," the corporal said from the back of the troop compartment, prompting twenty pairs of eyes to turn towards him, "let's go over the plan one more time. We are going to land one click south of the compound, and move in on foot. It's a low-security target, so there shouldn't be any armed resistance, and security measures will be minimal. We will fan out, and enter the main facility from multiple points, keeping contact with our radios. When we bust in there with automatic weapons and appropriate bravado, the egg-heads will surrender before they even know what hit 'em."

"Then we search the base, and prep the inhabitants for military evac by shuttle, which will be arriving and landing at the shuttle pad within the compound in exactly…" Meyers checked his military issue wristwatch "fifty hours. Remember, each inhabitant gets one bag of belongings, and they should be advised to take basic living materials instead of luxuries; otherwise they may find life in an internment camp disagreeable. Am I fully understood?"

"Yes sir!" The marines chorused.

Technically they were supposed to say "Yes comrade corporal", but this wasn't some ad-hoc militia that had been ballooned with revolutionary zealotry like the Army, these men and women had been soldiers long before the revolution, and it would take a lot more than yet another conflict to change their view of the military dynamic.

The corporal retook his seat next to George as the shuttle hit another rough patch, causing them to jolt in their seats and the private's stomach to turn over. He gagged and bent over in his seat, willing the nausea to go away. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he heard the Meyers say "You alright there George?"

"Yeah." He gagged again, "Just a little air-sick. Flying in atmosphere was never my strong suit."

"Don't sweat it. Everyone gets sick on their first drop. Whether it's civilian or combat, getting butterflies is always a part of your first time. We probably won't need a medic for this mission, so do you want to sit it out? If you're not going to be in good shape I can always let you stay in here and go back to the ship."

"No comrade corporal!" George said, sitting up as straight as he could and managing a weak smile through his green complexion, "This will pass the moment I step off the transport! I have to do my part to help the revolution, and that means deploying whenever, wherever, no matter the conditions!"

"Damn revolutionary committee keeps sending me stupid zealots." Meyers grumbled. "Brave zealots, fighting zealots, but stupid all the same." He was smiling beneath his grim complexion though, and gave George a pat on the back.

"Corporal." The navigator's voice crackled from the intercom, shot through with static interference. "The storm's electrical properties are interfering with our navigation and communications systems. They should be fine once we reach the lower atmosphere and get under the clouds, but you won't be able to communicate with the Hermes once you're down there. Do you want to scrub the mission and wait until the storm subsides?"

"There isn't time for that. We're needed elsewhere, and we don't know how long this storm could last. This installation isn't a military target; we won't need reinforcements. Just drop us off and send the evac shuttle down to come pick the base staff up as scheduled. When they have departed, you come back down and pick us up. Simple as that."

"Yes sir. Are you sure you want us to leave as soon as you and the troops have deployed? What if something goes wrong and you need evac? You won't be able to recall us once we've left." The navigator persisted.

"What if something were to happen to this shuttle?" Meyers countered. "You know as well as I that a storm like this could fry the shuttle's components with a single ill-placed electrical discharge. Then where would we be? Your orders are clear."

As if to emphasize the point, lighting cracked just beyond the shuttle's bulkhead.

"Yes sir." The navigator conceded.

Rain began to pound against the craft's thick windows as they descended, and showed no signs of letting up as the surface approached. It got darker too, until the marines couldn't even tell that it was in fact mid-day. It wasn't grey, like storms on Earth or the civilized colonies; these clouds were massive, thick, and pitch black.

"Beginning final approach." The navigator announced. "Radar systems functioning within acceptable parameters."

'Oh good.' George thought dryly, 'At least now if we're going to crash we'll have a few seconds to think about it beforehand.'

"Prepare for ramp-drop." The navigator said calmly, as the pilot took them in low. "The rain has turned the ground into sludge, corporal, so we can't land properly. We're going to have to hover about a meter above the surface and have you jump from the ramp."

"Acknowledged."

George tried looking out the window behind him, but the glass had fogged up, and in between that and the rain pounding against it he couldn't discern anything outside.

A mechanical clank sounded from the loading ramp, then a steady whir started up as the ramp began to open, exposing the marines to the chaotic gusts of wind that shook the craft at near-constant intervals.

"Prepare to move out!" Meyers had to shout to be heard above the roar of the storm. "Turn on the comm-link in your helmets!"

George switched his on, as did the rest of the marines. They then did a quick roll-call to confirm that everyone's was working

"You are go to disembark corporal." The navigator announced.

Everyone stood, picking up assault rifles and shouldering backpacks filled with ammunition, rations, and in George's case, a wide variety of medical supplies. As a medic, his only weapon was a large caliber revolver that fired mini-flares and explosive rounds; safely holstered at his hip.

George and Meyer had been sitting at the back of the craft, and were thus the first in line to jump. The ramp had been lowered fully, and the pair made their way to the edge, doubling over against the wind, a line of heavily-armed troopers standing behind each, ready to follow their lead.

Corporal Meyer looked over at him, mouthing "Ready?"

George glanced below them. Thick wisps of fog skated over the windswept muck that they were disembarking into, as rain pounded it in sheets so thick they were almost solid. The roar of the weather was deafening, overpowering even the engines that kept their craft hovering above the surface, and the wind-chill combined with the seeping wetness of water soaking into his combat uniform stripped the warmth from his flesh.

'No.'

"Hell yeah!" He shouted, putting on a face so happy and brave that he must have looked utterly insane. Without waiting for his mind to betray him, he jumped.

In that sickening moment between when his feet left the ramp and connected with the surface, it was impossible for him to tell whether time was moving very slowly or very quickly. As George perceived it, it did both. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was so heavily jarred when he finally did hit the ground, although he didn't really lose momentum until he was already ankle-deep in the mire.

He heard something splash down beside him, and looked over to see the corporal already trying to slog his way forward.

Meyer looked over at him and beckoned to follow, before resuming his ordeal.

In the time required for George to take this all in, he had sunken in up to his knees. He swore under his breath and tried to take a step forward. The mud stuck to his pants, weighting them down as it tried to suck his foot back under. Physical prowess had never really been his thing; his slime frame, even after months of intensive training, seemed unable to put on any real muscle. That was, after all, why he had become a medic in the first place. He much preferred working with his brain than with his brawn.

Not that any amount of intelligence helped when he was trudging through mud that went up to his thighs, while being buffeted from all sides by the nastiest weather imaginable.

More splashes sounded behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see the twin lines of marines disembarking in their wake, each making the same jump and then forcing themselves through the marsh to follow him and the corporal, holding their weapons above their heads to keep them out of the mud.

"Together we are strong and mighty." George whispered to himself, before the wind whipped away his pride and forced his mind to concentrate on the task at hand.

Between the rain and the darkness, he couldn't make much of their surroundings. The only things he could see were the occasional reed stalk protruding from the muck and a few sparsely wooded rises off in the distance to his left.

His hands were already frozen to the bone and he was soaking wet, but he doubted if he'd been on the surface for more than a couple of minutes. Glancing over his shoulder again, he watched as the last marine disembarked from the landing craft, and continued watching as the ramp closed up again and the shuttle rocketed away into the storm. He couldn't help but mouth "See you again soon" as the ship disappeared into the clouds from whence it had come, narrowly dodging another lightning bolt on its way up.

'I hope, anyway,'

Turning his attention back to his own present situation, he continued slogging forward after the corporal.

They spent perhaps half an hour struggling through that mire, and even when they climbed out of it, shivering and coated in a layer of oily mud, the ground still squished unpleasantly wherever they went. They tried to fan out, but had to stay close to keep from getting separated in the darkness, and couldn't use their lights for fear of giving away the element of surprise.

There was no real cover, just a few barren bushes and sparse trees every dozen meters, making effective concealment impossible. With that in mind, it was a relief to the entire group when they spotted a dense pocket of foliage ahead through the lashing rain, and Meyer ordered them to make for it and use it as cover.

George was still by the corporal's side after all this while, and they entered the brush together, the private first with Meyer following behind, as George was less likely to get stuck with his smaller and nimbler frame. Even still, he had to physically shove his way through the bushes in some places. This culminated in him bracing to force past a particularly prickly shrub, only to find himself falling forward onto his face when it turned out to be much thinner than expected.

Scrambling to get back to his feet, George hit something hard with the top of his helmet. Something hard which made a metallic clang as his protective headwear bounced off of it.

Standing back up, he stood in stunned silence for a moment, before turning on his mic and saying "Guys, I found something."

"What is it?" Meyers demanded, forcing his way through the underbrush to join him.

"See for yourself." George said, as the corporal stepped into the narrow clearing.

Before them lay the remains of a convoy of vehicles, most of which were military grade. The thing that George had hit his head on was in fact the open door of the leading truck, which had apparently flipped while in motion, been rammed by the trailing car, and then rolled over onto its back. The front grille and wheels looked to have been heavily corroded by some acidic substance. By looking around, it was clear that a crude, if well-worn road had been carved through the center of the clearing. It was that road which the vehicles had been traversing when the wreck occurred.

Aside from the leading car and truck, there were about half a dozen other vehicles of various shapes and sizes, all of which were suited to traversing rough terrain.

"Private Canner and I have discovered a derelict convoy in the center of the foliage patch. All personnel are to converge on my position immediately." Meyers ordered into his mic.

One by one, the other members of their expedition emerged from the tree line, until everyone was accounted for.

"Permission to use our flashlights, sir?"

"Permission granted. The woods are thick enough here to hide the beams. Investigate the wreckage. I want to know when this happened and why."

"Well I can tell you approximately when it happened sir." One of the marines said, shining his light at the underbelly of the overturned truck. "It happened within the last three or four days."

"How do you know that, Private Barns?"

"Look." Barnes said, focusing his light on the fuel tank. "There's a nick in the tank, and there's a tiny trickle of petrol coming out of it. If this had happened a long while ago it all would have escaped by now."

"Fan out and search the wreckage for survivors and information. I want to know what happened here." The corporal ordered.

George began looking over the remains, trying to suppress his unease. Something wasn't right here. There were bullet holes in the glass of the windshields and doors, but they appeared to have been caused by people inside shooting out. The only exceptions to this were windows that seemed to have been punched in, as the shattered remains were all over the seats of the vehicles.

But try as they might, the marines could only find a couple of bullet holes on the exterior of the vehicles, as though there hadn't been any sustained or purposeful shooting at them.

The vehicles themselves were also fully, if haphazardly, loaded with ammunition, guns, food, and survival gear, but it looked like they hadn't been touched since the incident, as though the attackers weren't interested in them.

There was also a marked lack of bodies. There was blood in almost every vehicle, but no actual remains to speak of.

The marines reported all of this to Meyers, each revelation leaving him with a more and more befuddled look on his face.

"What's you're analysis sir?" George asked, after they had examined everything.

"Some kinda ambush, by the looks of it, but that doesn't seem quite right. If the attackers weren't shooting at the convoy, then how was their attack effective enough to apparently wipe out or capture every single person in it? We can know that the attack was successful, because if the ambush had been beaten off, the vehicles behind the crashed truck could have just gone around; there's enough space to squeeze through. And what were the attackers after? The people themselves? Certainly not supplies; they left all of those as they were." For the first time in the short while that George had known him, Meyers looked to be at an utter loss.

"Well." He said, regaining some of his commanding composure, "I don't have any answers to this mystery, but I know where we can find some. Let's continue on to the lab, as before."

They pushed back into the undergrowth on the opposite side of the road, and continued toward their objective. They only made it another hundred meters though, before another marine radioed to the rest of them "Hey, did the blueprints of the complex we were provided with say anything about an outer wall surrounding the compound?"

"No." George answered, happy to finally be useful. He had a photographic memory, and had studied the blueprints extensively in preparation for the mission. Brains over brawn.

"Well that's a problem, because I just hit it."

"What?!" Corporal Meyers demanded.

"I've just hit a wall sir. It looks like it's a solid wall that goes around the compound, but I can't see much of it through the brush."

"I don't see anything." George said, before promptly walking right into it. "Ow! Scratch that, I see it now…"

The wall was camouflaged to look like the woodland around it, which in conjunction with the darkness worked to make it almost invisible. But it was there; big, solid, and right in the middle of the way.

Corporal Meyers swore. "We don't have the gear to climb over it, so we'll have to find a way in. Everyone to my left, follow the wall around your way and see if you can find a way in; we're going to do the same thing on our side.

A chorus of yes sirs and affirmatives followed this.

The wind howled overhead and the rain was still coming down hard, but at least the foliage shielded them from the worst of it.

George pushed through more underbrush, with Meyer following close behind.

'This was supposed to be a simple mission.' The private griped to himself, 'Just a little civilian evac. A perfect first drop to write home about. Just my luck that everything gets upset like this.'

Unbeknownst to him, his luck was about to get a lot better and a lot worse.

Following the wall around the compound, George and Meyers eventually broke through the underbrush onto the same crude road from before, which emerged from a large gate in the wall. The two massive steel doors that flanked the opening stood wide open; obviously the convoy was in such a hurry that they had neglected to close them up as they left.

"We've found our way in way." The corporal radioed behind him, as half a dozen marines emerged from the woods in their wake.

"We've found a way in too." One of the marines radioed back. "A large tree's been blown down against the wall; we can climb up it and drop down into the compound.

"Do it. It could gain us an extra element of surprise. My group is going in through the main entrance. Stay in tight formation, use flashlights, and remember that we're most likely dealing with some very frightened and paraniod scientists, not armed soldiers. Use words, not bullets."

'Sweet, I can do that!' George thought.

"Yes sir!"

"Same goes for us too." Meyers said, addressing the six marines in front of them. "Assume a standard tactical advance formation. You four, move to the opposite side of the gate, you two, with us."

They got in position, and at Meyer's signal, advanced into the compound two by two, each pair coving the other as they moved forward from cover to cover, the howling wind concealing what little sound they made. The interior of the compound appeared deserted, and not a single light shown from any of the buildings. When they reached the first building, a large, white, square one which was labeled "Dormitories and living areas", they moved in to flank the main entrance from either side. Meyer signaled again, and George and the marine opposite him moved to open the doors.

To George's surprise, he found that the door was already open a crack. Pushing on it prompted it to swing inward with relative ease, without so much as a squeak from the hinges. He reasoned that the large building sheltered the door from the wind, which prevented it from slamming.

He shone his flashlight down the hallway, and was met with the deserted remains of some horrific battle. Blood streaked the walls, and empty weapons laid abandoned on makeshift barricades.

"What the hell happened here?" The other marine murmured, flicking a switch on the wall to turn on the overhead lights.

It was just like the convoy though, in that there were no bodies to be found anywhere. Not even so much as a severed finger remained. They began to slowly make their way further into the hall, investigating the scene.

George heard the leader of the other group radio in to Meyers. "Sir, we've entered the main research building. We found-"

"Let me guess," The corporal interrupted, "blood, barricades, and no bodies?"

Out of the corner of his eye, something caught George's attention. It was a sickly green stain, coving a corroded section of wall.

"Affirmative. You got the same over there?" The marine in Meyer's headset asked.

"Yep." The corporal confirmed.

Gears were beginning to turn in George's mind. He reached down, and plucked a twig from the muddy, soaking mess that was his pants, and poked the green stain with it. The end of the twig sizzled.

He flashed back to his time in medical school, during a session of his compulsory class on exobiology. The instructor had been talking about a certain species that was unlike any other alien organism yet discovered. A certain species that Weyland-Yutani had a long history with. A certain species with green, acidic blood.

"Hang on, one of my men is reporting movement." Meyer's marine said.

"Oh no…" George murmured. With panic beginning to overtake his senses, he whirled to face the corporal and said "Get those marines out of there now!"

Meyer gave him a look of complete non-comprehension.

George frantically pointed at the green patch on the wall. "I poked that with a twig, and it sizzled! I learned about it in med-school, I'd know it anywhere! That's xenomorph blood!"

The corporal froze for a split second, and that's when it happened. The deafening chatter of automatic weapons fire blasted through the comms, accompanied by a female marine screaming "BUGS!" Someone else shrieked and then flat-lined.

"Retreat, retreat now!" Meyers shouted, "We have to re-group at the main gate!"

Some marines affirmed their orders, some just kept screaming and shooting.

As George and the group turned to leave, a floor panel erupted further down the hall, and a domed head began to emerge. It didn't even have time to see what hit it before it was blown away by concentrated automatic fire.

Another floor panel broke outward, this time right underneath one of the marines. This xenomorph was a lot quicker, and knocked the gun out of the woman's hand before she could pull the trigger. Then it disappeared back beneath the floor, trying to drag her with it. Meyers jumped forward and grabbed the woman's hand, trying to pull her back out. She looked up at him forlornly.

"It's been an honor sir." She pulled the pin on the grenade hanging from her belt, and let go of Meyer's hand, letting a sly smile slide over her face as she was roughly pulled under the floor. "Fuck you, you alien son of a bitch!" She screamed. Then the grenade went off.

The floor under George, Meyer, and the other marines bowed upward with the force of the explosion, then collapsed, sending them and hundreds of pounds of debris tumbling into a subterranean passage.

George was sent head over heels, and was knocked dumb for a moment when his head hit a thick metal pipe. He saw stars, and fell down again on his first attempt to stand back up. Shaking his head to clear it, he heaved himself off the ground, and quickly took in his new surroundings. He was standing in a narrow concrete passage, which he guessed to be a utility and maintenance tunnel, based on the pipes and cables that lined the cold grey walls.

Glancing around to try and figure out where Meyers and the others went, he found himself faced with a chain link utility gate. On the other side were Meyer and his comrades, looking around just like him.

"Meyer! I'm over here!" He shouted. He figured that after the explosion trying to be stealthy was utterly pointless. "Here, I can climb over this, just give me a moment!"

A cacophony of hisses and screeches filled the air, as more xenomorphs approached through the intact portion of the hallway above them.

"There's no time!" Meyers shouted back, "Run for it; try to get out of the complex! We'll do the same!"

George didn't need to be told twice. He turned tail and sprinted away down the hall as machine gun fire broke out behind him. He took several twisting curves at top speed, then emerged into a room filled with ventilation ducts and large fans. On the far side was a thick steel maintenance door. He made a beeline for it, and was infinitely relived when he turned the handle and the door squealed open on its rusted hinges, albeit requiring a few hard tugs on the handle as motivation.

George stepped through into what looked to be an office space, then stopped. He could hear something. A low, quiet scraping sound. Fearing what he would see, he turned around and looked back into the room he had just left. In the center of the room's ceiling was a large ventilation duct. A small trickle of dust fell from it.

Finding himself frozen with trepidation, George could do nothing but watch as a gleaming black head emerged from the vent and turned to gaze at him with an eyeless face. With a flick of its wrists, the xenomorph did a smooth acrobatic flip and landed on the floor, legs spread in a wide stance to absorb the impact. It was totally silent, and wickedly beautiful.

Even as his heart pounded in his chest, he couldn't help but be fascinated by the creature. It resembled very closely the photographs and illustrations in his exobiology textbook, with a few small differences. Its head, while still elongated, seemed shorter and more practical, while the creature's fingers and toes appeared to lack the talons of its kin. As a matter of fact, they looked rather harmless, if overly long, without even so much as fingernails at their tips.

The xenomorph hissed menacingly, cutting George's train of scientific observation short. As if in answer to one of his previous observations, long, black, wickedly sharp talons emerged from the tips of its fingers.

'Ah, I was wondering where those were.' George thought to himself. His mind was in a stupor. Less than ten meters in front of him was the perfect killing machine, and he was just a medic. He briefly considered reaching for his revolver, but he knew that the alien would be all over him long before he ever got it out of the holster.

The xenomorph, apparently tired of posing like an action figure, screeched and leapt forward at him. This shocked George out of his stupor and he slammed the door right in the xeno's face, hearing a resounding thud as it made impact.

He tried to step back, but his legs were made of jelly, and he fell flat on his ass. Still not content to stay so close to the door, he scooted his way back until he was leaning against a row of filing cabinets. There he stayed for about a minute, catching his breath and waiting for the pounding in his ears to subside. When finally it did, he grasped the cabinet and pulled himself to his feet.

He did a quick 360, and found the exit door; a thin, wooden, office one, which was standing open. He was underground, so there were no windows, but the entire facility was lit with dim emergency lights.

He took one last glance at the door he had entered through, just in time to see the handle twitch.

'Oh, fuck me…' George thought, right before the handle violently twisted and the door flew open so fast that it left a dent in the wall.

The xenomorph leapt at him again, screeching with unbridled rage.

'You aren't getting me this time either!' George took hold of a filing cabinet and pulled as hard as he could, sending it crashing down on top of the surprised xeno and briefly pining the bug underneath it. It was close though, and he winced as the creature's claws whipped past just a few centimeters from his face.

Without wasting a second, he spun around and made a sprint for the door, fumbling for his pistol while craning his head to keep track of the xenomorph.

The creature reacted quickly, getting his feet under the cabinet before it could pin it down fully, and then lifting with its legs and kicking the cabinet aside like it was just a tin can, sending it crashing into the far wall.

George sped past door to the office and slammed it shut behind him. Finally managing to get his gun out of its holster, he twisted his torso to try and get the creature in his sights.

The xenomorph didn't even open the door this time, instead bursting right through it with a resounding crack, sending particles of wood spraying everywhere.

George squeezed the trigger of his revolver, grinning with satisfaction as the gun cracked and kicked back solidly into his hand.

The xenomorph was too quick though, and leapt out of the bullet's path faster than the human's eyes could follow. The bug screeched and kept coming, dodging George's next shot with practiced ease.

The human kept running as fast as he could down the hall before rounding a corner and crashing right into a burning hot pipe that jutted out from the wall. He did a full 720 degree spin, stumbled a few more meters, then crashed to the floor on his back, powerless to do anything but watch as the xenomorph smoothly slid to a stop a few meters in front of him, the newly emerged talons on its feet leaving wicked gouges in the floor.

The alien stood there, without advancing. In fact, it seemed to be smiling; black lips peeling up into a menacing and sadistic grin. The creature's body language all but said "I have you now!"

It was so human, George marveled. Too human for its own good, at least. As the xenomorph basked in smug satisfaction, the human glanced at the pipe that he had run into. His face was still smarting from the burn he had received from touching it, so whatever was in there had to be hot.

He squinted. There was a label on the pipe, a warning sticker. He was too dizzy and too far away to read it, but he could make out a caricature of a steam cloud on the label.

George looked back at the xenomorph, who was still gloating, but was now looking like it was readying itself for the killing blow.

'Fuck it.' He thought, and raised his gun. The xenomorph hopped to the left to avoid the bullet it assumed would be coming its way. 'You're still right where I want you motherfucker.' George aimed at the pipe and pulled the trigger.

The gun kicked back as a high explosive round slammed into the steam pipe at the speed of sound, penetrating about a centimeter before exploding, and the pressurized steam did the rest. The scorching vapor tore through the hole that had been created and hit the xenomorph with the force of a train, knocking him against the wall and singeing its otherwise impervious skin.

As George regained his footing and limped away, he heard the alien screaming in pain, in a voice that was much too similar to that of a human's for comfort. A small part of him even felt compelled to go back and try to help, but he knew that was a stupid idea. He had no idea what the creature would do if it got its talons on him now, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it would be long, drawn out, and very, _very_ painful.

As he rounded the next corner though, he ran into a problem. The hallway ended rather abruptly in a steep drop off into a huge cylindrical space. Looking around quickly, he determined it to be a water reservoir, or at least the remains of one. The top was open to the air, and the bottom was filled with water, though he couldn't tell how deep it was. The wall on his section had partially collapsed, explaining the sudden drop off. He briefly wondered if he could climb down, but quickly dismissed the idea as being too dangerous; the collapsed section of the tank was covered in twisted, jagged metal, and the slope was much too steep to safely navigate.

He heard enraged screeching behind him and whirled around, bringing his revolver up and cocking it. The xenomorph was just a black blur in his vision, dashing out of the hall so fast that George never had a chance of hitting it. It didn't stop him from trying though, and he pulled the trigger, missing by a wide margin.

The alien landed on the wall, stuck to it, then adjusted its stance and sprang at George with all the force it could muster. Both sets of jaws were wide open, long teeth glinting in the low light. A scream of pure rage and hatred spilled from the back of its throat

George tried to dodge, but he was just too slow. He felt the xenomorph's inner jaw brush past his ear a split second before the rest of the creature's body slammed into him, knocking them both off the ledge and out into empty space. The alien had unwittingly imparted most of its momentum to George, resulting in him flying a lot further than the alien did.

It was just like when he had first been dropped off here, perhaps as little as an hour ago, George reflected. Time seemed to be moving both very slowly and very quickly. He momentarily took in the sights. He was falling back-first, so he could see the open sky. The clouds were still present and it was still raining, but it looked a little lighter now, and the rain seemed to have let up a bit.

The xenomorph was still screaming, now in fear and surprise rather than anger.

George wished it would shut up; he wanted to die in peaceful quiet.

His last thought before he hit the water was 'I wonder if Meyers and the rest of the team made it out ok'.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Wowzers! This took the better part of three days! But it was worth it to serve up some hot and spicy smut for your viewing pleasure. Unfortunately, I am going to have to go on a short hiatus to catch up on some school work that I missed while writing this, but fret not, for I will return in a week or two or three, with some more lovely story, and even more lovely smut. See you then!

(If you're just looking for the smut, like I know that some of you are, it's about 3/4ths of the way through. You're welcome.)

Remember: feedback is what sustains writers (and money, but that's not really applicable here). It keeps us going and lets us know that people enjoy our work and are taking time to analyze and appreciate it. And this is meant to have comedic elements, so if any of it made you laugh, please tell me.

And if you're an American, Liberian, or Burmese, a third of a meter is almost thirteen inches.

On to the story!

*Another manual space. Another complaint about formatting.*

It was very quiet when George woke up. All he could hear was the trickle of water somewhere close by; apparently the rain had stopped. He opened his eyes, and saw the dark grey sky above him, framed by the off-white walls of the reservoir. His entire body was one giant ache.

Trying to sit up, George found that he couldn't.

'Oh god, have I been paralyzed?'

Desperately, he tried again, and this time succeeded, coming away from the surface he was lying on with a disgusting *schlop*. Looking down, he realized that he was had been laying half-submerged in thick mud at the far side of the reservoir. The lower section of the wall had collapsed here too, letting in a huge pile of dirt which had combined with the water to make a thick, sticky, but very impact-absorbing goo.

The first thing he did was try to use his comm-link, but all he got was static. He was either too far away from his comrades, or more likely there was too much dirt and metal in the way. Or they might all be dead, a possibility that he refused to consider.

George stood up, and was relived to find that he didn't appear to have broken anything. He also realized that he was still wearing his backpack, which he had entirely forgotten about during the earlier chase with the xenomorph.

'Speaking of…'

The private hurriedly looked around the room, and found the offending creature on the far side, lying on a sheet of heavily corroded metal. It wasn't moving.

His hand crept down to his holster, which was empty.

'Fuck, where is it?'

George frantically looked around and spotted his gun lying in the mud a few meters away. Thanking his lucky stars, he quickly squelched over to it and picked it up, wiping off the grime on the cleaner half of his uniform. He checked the chambers; two bullets left. That was ok, he had two dozen more in his ammunition belt. He hurriedly reloaded, looking up at the xenomorph again as he did.

It hadn't moved.

Separating him from it were a few dozen meters of clean water, where the mud hadn't piled up high enough to break the surface.

George looked down at his now fully-loaded revolver, then back up at the xeno. 'Might as well finish the job.'

He waded into the water, which came up to his neck at one point. That was fine, his ammunition and pack were water-proof. He briefly dipped his head beneath the surface to clean the muck out of his hair and helmet, then continued onward.

Slogging out of the water, he cautiously approached the alien, keeping it's domed head in his iron sights in case it tried something.

It didn't.

As he got closer, George realized why it wasn't moving. There was a huge gash across its belly, which it was fruitlessly trying to hold shut with its hands. The entire metal sheet it was lying on was stained dark green from the blood; which explained the corrosion. Little rivers of acid were running off of it and down through the muck into the water, where it was carried away by a heretofore unnoticed current.

Looking up, George saw a long piece of rebar sticking out of the wall, with a large green stain and considerable corrosion at its tip. The creature must have hit it on its way down.

The private started as the xeno weakly lifted its head and turned to look at him silently. George tightened his grip on the trigger, ready to kill the thing which had tried to do the same to him.

The xeno mewled pathetically, then lay its head back down, apparently accepting its fate.

The gun shook in George's hand. The creature looked so helpless, so alone. Its breathing was light and quick. The mewl still echoed within the cavernous chamber, hammering into his ears. Green blood dripped steadily from the great gash in the thing's midsection.

"Oh… fuck it!" George exclaimed, letting his arm fall to his side. Frustration burned within him. If wasn't able to kill one stupid bug, then how was he going to fare in actual battle?

"Fine." He told the alien pointedly, "I'll leave you here and let you bleed out. Alone. It's what you deserve for trying to kill me earlier, and for taking such joy in it!"

He turned his back on the alien, which was never a good idea, but in that moment the private didn't care. He was too flustered.

Looking around, he spotted a steel ladder which went up a few meters to a catwalk which was built into the side of the reservoir. There was a hatch built into the section of wall that the catwalk protruded from.

'There's my exit.'

Holstering his gun, George walked over to the ladder and clambered up it and onto the catwalk. Facing the hatch, he took a firm hold of the circular handle that protruded from its center and twisted as hard as he could, sighing with relief when it turned and the door swung open, revealing the inside of an airlock. Trying not to look back at the helpless form below, he stepped inside.

There was another door of the same type on the opposite side, which he pried open and stepped through, emerging into a white-tiled hallway, lit by dim yellow emergency lights. He switched on his helmet-mounted flashlight, which thankfully still worked, and slunk down the hall, making as little noise as he could.

It was a long hall, and at the end was a pair of grated steel doors. Behind them was a pile of twisted metal and concrete; the remains of an elevator. A few meters away was a metal door labeled "Stairwell". George tried to open the door, but it was wedged shut from the other side. He rammed his shoulder against it several times, but only managed to crack it open wide enough to peer through. The stairwell was like the elevator; filled with debris. He realized that even if he could get the door open, the stairs had collapsed. No escape that way.

The private sighed and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding into a sitting position. He cradled his head between his knees, and let out a strangled sob. He was trapped and alone down here. He could die, and no one would know or care.

'You're not the only one in that position.' A small voice in the back of his head pointed out.

George looked back down the hallway, at the hatch which he had entered through.

'When I became a doctor, I swore an oath to do no harm, even through inaction. And if I'm going to die down here, then I refuse to die alone.'

He got back to his feet, and quickly started exploring the rooms that flanked the hall. The first one he entered confused him. It was a control room looking out on a line of prison cells.

'What the hell did they need this for?'

He didn't have time to investigate further, so he jogged out and went to the next room. As he entered he stopped dead. It was a laboratory. A twisted and disturbing laboratory, but a laboratory none-the-less.

The walls were lined with cabinets, counters, and refrigerators, and in the center of the room, under an array of surgical lights, was a large table that was made from some dull grey metal that George did not recognize. It had restraints built into it, and was stained green with xenomorph blood.

Then all the pieces came together. This wasn't a medical installation; it never was. That was just a cover for Weyland-Yutani's real project: experimentation and weaponization of xenomorphs.

A knot of pity formed in George's gut and he doubled over, feeling sick to his stomach. Apparently some doctors did not take their oath as seriously as he did. No wonder the xenos seemed to hate humans so much.

But if he was going to find medical supplies fit for a xenomorph, then this was the place. Laying on a tray next to the table was a pair of thick black rubber gloves, also stained slightly green. George could only assume that they were acid-proof, so he took them. He rifled around in the cabinets until he found a surgical staple gun and a large pail, and was about to leave when, on a whim, he decided to look through the refrigerators. In the last one, he found an odd looking spray canister. Next to it was a note, which simply said "Anti-acid flexi-plaster".

Hoping it was still good, as the refrigerator wasn't functioning, George shook the canister, and experimentally sprayed it at a wall. Tiny white particulates sprayed from the nozzle, and covered the targeted section of wall with a thin white film, with a flexible, rubbery texture. He pocketed the canister, hoping that it wouldn't hurt the xeno.

George jogged out of the room and back down the hall to the airlock. Stepping back out onto the catwalk, he noticed that it was raining again, albeit gently. He climbed down the ladder and slowly approached the xenomorph again.

It remained motionless, except for its head, which slowly rotated to face him.

Not knowing what else to do, George smiled and waved at it. "Hi. It's me again."

The xeno laid its head back down.

Setting down the rest of his equipment, the young marine squelched down to the pool of water and filled up the pail. Trudging back up, he poured it over the metal slab, cleaning off the acid so he could kneel down on it. He filled the pail from the pool again, and then set it down on the edge of the metal sheet. He fumbled around in his pack, before taking out a package of water sterilization powder and emptying it into the bucket. Putting the empty bag away, he retrieved the gloves from his pocket and started to pull them on.

The xenomorph did not react well to that. Pulling its lips into a snarl, it hissed loudly and angrily, the razor-sharp blade on the end of its tail twitching, warning of the consequences that pissing the creature off would incite. Obviously it had run into people wearing gloves like that before.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." George murmured quickly. He tried to think of what he could do to placate the creature before he started working. Painkillers or not, this was going to hurt a fair bit, and he wasn't even sure if the pain pills he had were compatible with xenomorph biology.

He looked down at the alien's domed head, which was tilted toward him expectantly. The snarl had mostly subsided, but the lips were still pulled back threateningly.

Unable to think of any other solution, George decided to do something that under any other circumstances would have been utterly insane. He smiled the most kind and good-natured smile he could muster, reached out with his ungloved hand, and rested his bare palm on the xeno's dome.

It wasn't cold, per say, but it was definitely cooler than room temperature, and quite smooth. George couldn't resist running his thumb along it to really feel the texture.

The xenomorph's lips and general posture quickly relaxed, and it even pushed up into his hand a bit, which the marine found surprising. It didn't seem to be a stranger to complex emotional displays.

'Perhaps their hive dynamic is more complex than we thought.' George reasoned. Putting that line of inquiry aside for the moment, he decided to do something even more insane to gain the creature's trust as much as he could. After all, he would need its full cooperation if he was going to keep it calm and still enough to operate on.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his pounding heart, George lowered himself down and lay facing the xenomorph, his face just a few centimeters from his new companion's.

This was it. If the xeno intended to kill him, now was the time. If it wanted to, it could open its jaws and ram its inner mouth through the marine's skull faster than he could blink.

But it didn't. It stared at him eyelessly for a few seconds, then it inched its own head forward and touched its forehead to George's, purring gently.

"Thank you." George murmured quietly, letting out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding in. The alien continued to purr, nuzzling his forehead with its own.

"I'm going to try and help you, but you have to stay still and calm, okay?" The human said, pulling back from the creature's display of affection.

The xeno stopped purring, but didn't become hostile again. It cocked its head, seeming curious.

"Here." George turned away for a second to dig through his pack, until he pulled out a red and white bottle of pain killers. He unscrewed the cap and took one out, presenting it to the xenomorph in the palm of his hand. "Swallow this."

The xeno looked at the pill, then up at him. It cocked its head again.

George sighed. Of course it wouldn't know what he meant. 'There's only one practical way to communicate…'

Taking the pill between his fingers, the human placed it at the back of his throat, and made a show of swallowing it without chewing.

The xeno observed attentively.

"See that? Now you do it." He fished another pill out of the bottle and presented it to the xenomorph.

In response, the xenomorph angled its head at him and opened its jaws as wide as it could, giving George an unobstructed and quite disturbing view of the inside of its mouth.

If this had been in a laboratory and the creature been restrained, George might have found this display fascinating. As it was, he was really just creeped out. The inside of the xeno's mouth was all black, just like the creature's exterior, except for the long, crystalline, and razor-like teeth that jutted from both of its jaws.

He could see the secondary set of jaws lurking at the back of the creature's mouth, just above and in front of the entrance to its throat. Something squirmed back there, and George blinked in shock as a long, black, and forked tongue emerged from the secondary jaws. That was _not_ a feature that had been mentioned in the textbook. It had long been thought that the secondary jaws were the xenomorphs' tongues, which was now obviously wrong.

A small part of George's mind also noted that, aside from the long, needle-like fangs at the front of the xeno's mouth, the rest of its dental structure was remarkably like that of a human, with canines and molars in approximately the right places.

He stared into the gaping maw for several long moments before he realized what the xeno wanted him to do. "Oh. You want me to… stick my hand back there and put the pill…"

He shivered. "Between all those teeth?"

As though understanding what was putting the human off, the xenomorph retracted the fangs at the front of its mouth back into its gums, doing the same for the little mouth too.

'Oh lovely.' George thought wryly. 'More features that the textbook didn't mention.'

Deciding to bite the bullet, and praying that the xeno wouldn't bite him, he took the pill between his forefinger and thumb, and slowly reached into the creatures mouth. When he was about halfway in, he felt something warm and slimy wriggling across his hand. He realized, with a sickening churn of his stomach, that it was the alien's tongue, probably tasting him and analyzing his scent. He wondered if he tasted and smelled good. He wondered if he didn't. Silently, he pondered which was worse.

Finally, he reached the xeno's throat, and deposited the pill there, quickly pulling his hand back out. When his precious appendage was clear, the alien snapped its jaws shut, turned its head vertical, and loudly swallowed.

Feeling a little more confident, George wiped the alien's saliva off on his pants, and pulled on the other glove.

Smiling at his companion, he gently bumped the xeno's dome with his forehead again, prompting it to purr happily.

"Okay, so, fair warning, this is going to hurt. Possibly a lot." George warned, putting on a serious face.

The xeno stopped purring.

The marine continued, "When it does, please don't, you know… kill me." He couldn't help but glance at the blade at the end of the xenomorph's tail, which glinted wickedly in the glow of the marine's flashlight.

His companion followed his gaze, and promptly tucked its tail underneath itself, as if saying "Don't worry. I won't do anything with it."

George looked at the xenomorph gratefully, and it purred some more. It occurred to him that he was probably the first person in the history of the galaxy to be able to count a xenomorph as a friend. It also occurred to him that it might all be just an act. Xenos were smart, and it was entirely possible that this one was just pretending to be nice hoping that he would heal it, and then when he was done it would just kill him and eat him.

George shivered. He hoped that wasn't true.

Picking up the pail of water, he said "Ok, here we go" and gently poured some onto the gash in the alien's stomach, washing away the acidic green foam that had accumulated there and cleaning out the wound.

The xenomorph tensed and twitched a little, but didn't react violently.

"Ok, that was the easy part." George muttered, more to himself than to his new friend. He set down the pail and gently probed at the wound with the tip of a finger. He had to find out if there were any debris or fragments of metal inside before he could close it up. Thankfully the bleeding appeared to have stopped, which made his task significantly easier.

The xeno made a pained squeak and twitched some more, but appeared to be making an effort to stay still and quiet, which George greatly appreciated. He tried to convey this by smiling gently at the xenomorph again, who let out a strained purr in response.

Finishing his examination and thankfully finding nothing, George moved on to the final stage of the operation: sealing the wound.

He poured some of the water over his gloves to wash off the acid he had gotten on them, then picked up the stapler and grimaced apologetically at his patient. "This is the part that's really going to hurt."

He took hold of the skin on either side of the tear and pressed it together, before pressing the stapler to it and pulling the trigger.

There was a loud click and the xeno squealed, tensing heavily and kicking its legs. When it calmed down, George repeated the process. This continued for about five minutes, until he had stapled the entire wound closed.

By the time the deed was done, the xenomorph was panting heavily and twitching erratically. George wasn't sure if the pain medication had worked, but thanked his stars if they had, because he doubted that the xeno would have been able to take it if it hadn't.

"Ok, here's the last step, then we're done." He said soothingly, taking the anti-acid canister out of his pocket. He shook it, then sprayed it over the wound, watching with satisfaction as the spray became cohesive and sealed the gash shut. He waited for it to set and acquire its rubbery texture, then doused the area with sterilized water one last time.

George cleaned his tools and put them away, then stripped off his gloves and cleaned those too, stowing them in a spare pocket in his backpack.

"Ok!" He said, beaming down at his new friend, "You're all set!"

He dumped the contents of the pail out into the pool to be washed downstream, then returned and sat down cross-legged next to the xenomorph. He was beaming with pride. He'd done it! He'd successfully performed surgery on a xeno. He was probably the first person in history to have done that, or at least the first with good intent. And he'd made a new friend! Or, at least, he thought he had. George looked down at his patient, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw it baring its teeth at him.

"What'd I do?" He asked frantically, afraid that his earlier fears about the friendliness being an act were coming true. The creature made no move to attack though, it just sat there baring its teeth at him. Then George noticed that the sides of its mouth were curved upwards, in the rough approximation of… "A smile!" he exclaimed "You're trying to smile at me, like I did at you!"

The xenomorph hissed in affirmation.

"Aww! You're such a cutie!" George cooed, scratching the xeno under its chin. And he meant it too. Behind that murderous demeanor, the creature's body was actually quite pleasing to look it. It had a fascinating biomechanical aesthetic, and the way its exoskeleton components shone in the low light was really quite fetching. In a few ways it was even subtly sexy, but he tried not to think about that.

The xenomorph purred and pushed its dome into his palm.

George leaned down and bumped his forehead against the alien's, prompting it to purr louder.

"And to think we were trying to kill each other just a few hours ago." He reflected out loud.

The xeno playfully bumped his forehead in return, as if to say "The past is the past."

They pressed their foreheads together and George began humming a simple tune.

His companion listened for a moment, then began humming it with him.

This continued until the rain began to really pick up, which brought their intimate interaction to an end. George suggested that they move out of the reservoir and into the interior section that he'd been in before.

The xeno turned him down flat, curling up on the metal sheet and refusing to move.

"You'd rather be out here in the rain?" George asked, surprised.

The alien looked at the entrance to the laboratory and shivered, a primal convulsion of fear and disgust that shot from its head to the tip of its tail.

"Oh. You probably don't like that place, do you? That's where they imprisoned and experimented on you, isn't it?"

The xeno shivered again.

"Ok. Then I have a better idea than just sitting here in the rain."

Delving into his pack again, George pulled out a folded strip of canvas; part of a kit for making a tent. Setting it down, he picked up the pail and filled it with water again. As he was doing that, it occurred to him that his companion might be thirsty. Taking the water back up to their metal sheet, he offered it to the xeno.

The alien immediately sat up and stuck his inner mouth into the water, sucking it up voraciously. It had drunk half the pail before George could even react.

Apparently sated, the xeno laid back down and purred at him affectionately.

The marine smiled, then used the rest of the water to clean the acid off of the rebar which jutted out from the wall. When he had done that, he unfolded the canvas and strung it between that piece of rebar and another a little further along the embankment, creating a makeshift roof over their slab.

The xeno observed all this with piqued interest. When the human was done, it made a cooing noise at him, obviously pleased to be protected from the weather.

"Now that that's done," The George said, looking down at his friend, "I'm going to go explore more of the interior over in there, maybe see if I can find something useful or a way out. You stay here, ok?" Not expecting an answer, he turned and started to walk away.

"Ok." Said a voice behind him.

George stopped dead. That was _his_ voice. Was it an echo?

He looked around and listened, but didn't hear it again. Then something occurred to him. The marine slowly turned around and walked back up to the xeno.

Feeling like an idiot, but having no idea of what else to do, George kneeled down in front of the alien and said "Can you talk?"

"Yes."

This time it was a woman's voice, slow and monotone, like it was answering the most mundane question in the world. It came out of the xeno's mouth, lips moving slowly and deliberately to form the word.

George inhaled sharply. He wasn't sure how to react to this. Dumfounded, and so scatterbrained that he forgot that xenomorphs didn't have reproductive biology, he asked "Are you a girl?"

"NOOOO!" This time the voice was male; high and fearful, as if from a desperate man pleading for his life. George tumbled backwards in surprise, catching himself on his hands as he landed in the mud.

Despite having screamed so loudly that the entire base probably could have heard it, the xenomorph hadn't moved.

"What the fuck was that for?" George demanded, eyes wide and heart pounding.

The xeno didn't move or speak.

"Are you a boy then?" He asked, still too scatterbrained to remember.

"Yes." The same drawling women's monotone.

Something clicked in George's head. "You can copy people's voices, can't you?"

The same female monotone "Yes."

"You copied my voice." George said, mostly to himself as he began thinking about this new development, the gender questions totally forgotten, "So it seems that you have to hear a voice to mimic it. Which means… where did those other voices come from?"

The marine looked up at the xenomorph, horror draining the color from his face. "Where did the over voices come from?" He asked again, now addressing the alien.

The creature opened its mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

"Dead." George supplied.

"Dead." The xeno confirmed, mimicking him perfectly.

"Are you going to kill me?" George asked forlornly, feeling his heart sink. "Have you done this to other people? Manipulated them into helping you and then killing them and using their voices to kill others?" He didn't bother reaching for his pistol; the will to live had left him. He felt betrayed, and that very nearly killed his soul.

The xenomorph tried to say something, choked, and then tried again.

"No." It said, in a voice that seemed wobbly and unstable. It was a man's voice, but a very young man, perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. It didn't sound like it was a mimicked voice clip, but rather like it had been tailored to answer this particular question.

Relief swamped George, and through that relief he realized that that voice wasn't mimicked. Pulling himself out of the mud, he walked back up to the xeno and kneeled in front of it again. "Was that your own voice, that you answered 'no' in?"

"Yes." Same young male voice, now a little steadier, as if the xenomorph was getting the hang of using it.

"Why did you stop copying?"

"Copying… Was… Upsetting… You…"

Full sentences were obviously a new experience.

"Where did you get this voice?"

"Made… It."

"Like, how? By listening to other people's voices, and then learning how to speak and synthesizing a voice that you like?"

"What… Synthesizing?" The xeno asked.

"It means 'making'."

"I… Make… Voice… For… I." The alien said, seeming proud of itself.

"'Myself'. 'I made a voice for myself.'" George corrected. "You need to work on your grammar."

The absurdity of having a conversation with a xenomorph about proper grammar usage was not lost on George, and he couldn't help but grin at it.

"Well," He said, standing up and wiping the mud from his hands off on his trousers, "this has been quite interesting, but I really need to go exploring. Don't worry, I'll be back."

He slogged through the mud to the ladder again, and then entered the hallway through the hatch. Searching around, he found a walk-in freezer with a sickening display of various eviscerated internal organs, both human and xenomorph. He closed the door to that room and vowed never to enter it again.

Exploring some more, he found a broom closet, which was very boring, a bathroom, which he used, and an office space, where it looked like several scientists had dedicated desks. Computers and piles of paper were scattered around the room and on the desks. A cursory search yielded nothing of interest, except for a large floppy disk, which George took, intending to wipe whatever was on it and replace it with a video game for his collection.

After ransacking the office, there were only two rooms left. He entered and found a break room, with some tables, chairs, and a refrigerator. Most of the food in it was beginning to rot or mold, but he did find a vacuum sealed package of jerky, which would make a nice supplement to his bland nutrient bar rations.

The final room really got George excited though. It was a security room, with a bank of monitors that could be hooked up to cameras all over the facility.

'Someone must really be a control freak if they're so determined to keep watching the staff all the time.' George thought. The cameras and security suite were functioning on emergency power, probably from a clunky old emergency RTG somewhere close by. He sat down at the desk and started flipping through the cameras, looking for his squad mates.

He was just about to give up when he found them. Or, at least, a few of them. Meyers, Barns, a female marine who George barely knew and whose name he had forgotten, and another man in a civilian outfit. Barns and the civilian appeared to be deep in conversation. The female marine was sitting on a chair in the corner, fingering her pistol nervously, and Barnes was messing with what looked like a radio on a table in the middle of the room..

The scene continued uninterrupted for a few seconds, before Barnes, appearing fed up with the radio, slammed his fist down on the table and swore very loudly, which was when George realized that he had an audio feed along with the video. He quickly slipped on a pair of headphones so that he could hear better.

It was also at this moment that Barnes looked up at the camera and froze.

'There must be a light on it that turns on when it's in use.' George reasoned.

Barnes blinked, then turned his head and said "Hey corporal! The camera's on!"

Meyers walked over and looked into the camera. "Who's there?" He demanded gruffly, as was his usual tone with strangers.

"George frantically looked around for a button or switch that would allow him to talk to the people in the feed, but couldn't find one. His headphones also didn't have a microphone, so he assumed that they didn't have that functionality. What he did find was a little joystick that he could move the camera with.

Meyers squinted at the security device, "Private Canner, is that you?"

George used the joystick to move the camera up and down, in imitation of a nod.

Barnes whooped, and the female marine in the chair smiled. Meyer broke out into a huge grin. "It's good to hear from you again my boy! Are you hurt?"

George made the camera shake "No".

"Good. Can you see where we are?"

George quickly consulted a directory of the cameras, and found that his comrades were in a room situated in a secure building at the far eastern side of the compound. He was at the far western side. He nodded the camera.

"Can you get to us?"

He shook the camera.

"Why not? Are you trapped somewhere?"

He nodded.

"Shit." Meyers scratched his chin. "Are you in any danger?"

George shook the camera "No".

"Do you think that you'll be able to rendezvous with us at the landing pad in forty hours? That's when the evac shuttle is coming. We've tried sending a radio signal to the Hermes," Meyers gestured at the radio on the table "but even after boosting its broadcasting power we cant' break through the storm. For all they know the mission went perfectly, so they're sticking to the plan and waiting for the evac shuttle."

George thought for a moment. On one hand, he definitely wasn't getting out through the stairwell or elevator. On the other, he still hadn't tried ascending the steep slope that formed the side of the reservoir where the wall had collapsed inward. And with a xenomorph on his side, they might be able work together to get out.

With a hint of trepidation, he nodded "Yes".

With all of his most burning questions answered, George turned the camera towards the civilian, trying to prompt Meyers to explain his presence.

The corporal picked up on the question and said "This is Doctor Harry Calegary. He's one of the head researchers here. He got us into this building, which is a secure site for DNA and pathogen storage. The bugs can't get to us in here."

Dr. Calegary put on a smile and waved at the camera.

In response, George slammed the table with his fist and screamed "SHOOT HIM IN THE FUCKING FACE!" as loud as he could. He mashed the joystick, causing the camera to go all over the place, trying to express his agitation to Meyers.

"What's wrong?" Meyers asked, concern clouding his face, "Are you being attacked?"

George growled with frustration and shook the camera "No", deciding to put off trying to communicate that Calegary was the bad guy until a more appropriate time. Then he and his new xeno friend could beat the stuffing out of the doctor personally.

'Shit, what about the xenomorph?' George thought, leaning back in his chair. 'How do I tell Meyers about it? If he sees it without me being present he and the others are liable to just blow the xeno away. And they'll probably do the same even if I'm present and try to stop it. A marine trying to protect a xenomorph? I'll be put away in an insane asylum for the rest of my life. And leaving the alien here isn't an option either. We'll probably have to nuke this place from orbit when we leave to purge the infestation, and then it'll die with all the rest of them. What to do…?'

"Private!" Meyers said, bringing George out of his thoughts. "We're going to stay put here until it's time to move. I suggest you do the same. Sign off the cams and go take care of yourself until a few hours before the shuttle arrives, then book it to the landing pad. Understand?'

George nodded the camera.

"Good. Meyers signing off." The corporal saluted, then walked back over to Calegary and resumed talking with him. Barns and the female marine saluted too, and George saluted back. Then he turned off the camera, removed his headphones, and walked out of the security room.

Stepping out of the hallway onto the catwalk, George looked up at the sky, letting a few drops of rain roll down his face. Looking over at his little makeshift tent, he saw that the xenomorph had curled up and apparently gone to sleep. It actually looked kinda adorable, dome tucked between its legs, tail wrapped around itself.

Climbing down the ladder, George remembered what the corporal had said about taking care of himself. Mostly he was fine; he had food, water, shelter, and even a friend, but there was just one thing…

Looking over again to make sure the xeno was asleep, George quietly took off his backpack, hanging it on one of the rungs. Then he walked over to where the water gently flowed into a small cave in the side of the reservoir and unzipped his pants.

It was tacky, yes, but at least it was somewhat private. Over the past few days George had been much too busy to take a second and let off some steam, but now he was finally done with everything he needed to do for the moment, and he was all alone. Well, except for _one_ person, but they were currently curled into a ball and fast asleep.

With that comforting thought in mind, he tried to summon up an image of the last guy he had slept with. His name was Konrad Wu, an excitable and free-spirited fellow of mixed Austrian-Chinese descent who ran a noodle shop on Steele. They had had a relationship, but it hadn't worked out, so they agreed to just be friends right before George had shipped out, and parted on good terms.. That didn't mean that he had agreed to stop fantasizing about Konrad though.

Konrad had a very agreeable complexion; a mix of European and Asian skin tones, with blue eyes and curly blond hair that made him look like some Greek statue come to life. His body had been wonderful too, covered in smooth skin that was a joy to run his hands over.

George had been pretty pent-up, so with these thoughts running through his head it didn't take long for him to climax. Several large white drops landed in the water, with the rest running down his shaft and over his fingers.

He quickly washed himself off and got presentable again, before zipping his pants back up and turning around to go get his pack. It was then he discovered the xenomorph was not in fact asleep, but was watching him with interest. _Considerable_ interest too, as was evidenced by the oblong object bobbing between its legs.

George's blood simultaneously rushed to his face and to his dick, leaving his brain without enough to really function. "How much of that did you see?" he spluttered.

"All." The xeno said simply in its, no_ his_ new voice. There was an extra tone of sultriness that hadn't been present before, showing that he had at least listened in on some dirty words during his lifetime. George couldn't help but picture him peering out of a vent at two of the former staff going at it, observing and learning.

The marine shuddered. That couldn't have ended well for the staffers.

With that train of thought having reached its conclusion, he couldn't help but let his gaze be dragged to the xenomorph's member. Curiosity overcoming his embarrassment, he stepped closer to get a better look. This was yet another feature that no other xeno he knew of had. It certainly hadn't been mentioned in the textbooks. Stepping up onto the sheet of metal that he co-inhabited with his new friend, he kneeled down and examined the impressive length.

It was long, perhaps approaching a third of a meter, and very ornately textured. The bottom side was covered in biomechanical designs reminiscent of the ones on the creature's head and body, while the top was smoother, the only texture there being raised ridges that circumnavigated the shaft, distributed every few centimeters along its length. At its base it was as thick around as a golf ball, and it was crowned by an ornate glans, covered in biomechanical textures.

George's arousal combined with that of the creature's caused his hormones to go wild, and he couldn't help but think how good it must feel to be bred with a tool like this. His own member was standing up like a flagpole, but he hardly noticed.

He looked up at the xeno's head, and found that despite not having face in the human sense, it was still quite capable of speaking through expressions alone. The one it was currently wearing said "Like what you see?"

"It's impressive, I'll give you that." George conceded, feeling slightly insecure. His dick was tiny and boring by comparison. "Now put it away."

"No." The creature said. It tilted its dome to point at George's hands, then at its penis, then back at his hands.

"What, you want me to… No!"

"Yes." His companion insisted.

George inhaled sharply, preparing to argue, and got a snootful of the horny xeno's pheromones for his effort.

He was perfectly aware of them as they took effect, breaking down his inhibitions and counter-arguments systematically before his very eyes. He gave the xenomorph a look of pure loathing. "That's cheating…"

The xeno smirked and spread his legs further apart, giving George better access.

'I suppose I should think of it as a science experiment.' He thought, rationalizing what he was about to do in his mind. 'A very hands-on science experiment.' Now that he thought about it, he really was curious. The alien's dome had had a fascinating texture, and now he had a chance to examine something which probably no one else had. A small part of him was even thankful for the pheromones, since now he had the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

'I didn't have a choice.' He imagined himself explaining to someone, 'He drugged me and forced me to do it. And what was I going to go? Say no to a xenomorph? Yeah right. Let's see you go up to one of those things and try to deny it something it wants.'

The xeno's shaft pulsed slightly in the cool, moist air, precum leaking for its tip like a faucet. It was covered in a thin layer of clear slime, which George reasoned to be natural lubricant. Gingerly, he reached out a hand and closed his fist around the alien member.

The xenomorph let a long, drawn out hiss of pleasure slip through its teeth. He began to gently thrust into George's fist, sliding his member across the man's fingers.

George closed his eyes, feeling the cock's exquisite texture as it was forced through his hand. It was warm, like a human's, and the slime layer really was an excellent lubricant. He began to move his fist in conjunction with the member, trying to help the xeno.

The alien quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist, preventing him from moving. The message was very clear: "I'm in control here, not you."

"Oh, so you're _that_ kind of lover, are you?" George said judgmentally, more of a statement than a question.

The xeno made a chuffing noise that could have been interpreted as a laugh.

It didn't take long for the xenomorph to climax, spraying white all over the metal sheet and even onto the mud beyond. George quietly marveled at how much of it there was; probably more than he had pumped out in the entire past month at least. It smelled quite strongly too, virile and masculine, but also subtly sweet.

Trying to ignore the intoxicating scent, George said "That's quite impressive, especially considering you don't even have any balls so far as I can see." He stood up, letting go of the xeno's member, although his hands were still smeared with its juices. "We're done now." He said firmly.

The xeno seemed disappointed, but complied, retracting his cock up into the slit between his legs.

Sighing heavily, George stood up and walked down to the water to scrub his hands off. Then he retrieved the pail and filled it full of water, pouring it on the steel sheet to clean away the sticky semen. Then he filled it up again and dumped it all over the xenomorph, washing him off and sending a very clear message that he was not pleased with him.

The xeno shrieked and thrashed around, obviously not happy about suddenly being doused.

Taking a cautious sniff, George was pleased to find that all of the pheromones had been cleared out, and the air was clean again.

"Don't ever do that to me again." He said crossly, sitting down next to his companion and staring at the roof of their tent.

The xenomorph didn't have the excuse of not being able to understand him, since it had understood words and hand gestures perfectly before, so it made George all the madder when he felt one of the xeno's hands gently pawing at his crotch.

"I said enough!" He yelled, slapping the appendage away.

The xeno made a small whimper and looked down, ashamed.

"Oh for the love of…" George muttered, a small knot of pity tying itself in his heart. He sighed and looked at the xenomorph, which was still staring at his feet.

"You showed me, I guess, so now I show you. But be careful, and no claws."

The xenomorph looked up excitedly, his talons long since retracted into its fingers.

Rolling his eyes, George unzipped his pants and pulled his penis out to show the curious creature.

The alien immediately reached up and started touching it gently, fascinated by this new appendage. He looked down between his legs, then back up at George. He smirked.

"Yeah, I know yours is bigger and cooler than mine. Don't rub it in." The marine huffed, feeling slightly insecure that a bug was better equipped than him.

The xeno made another amused chuff. Continuing to gently fondle the human's genitals, he seemed to focus on in the foreskin, a feature which he did not have. He rolled the flap of skin back, curious, and sniffed at the moist red head that was revealed.

His curiosity there apparently sated, he moved on to the balls, rolling them around between his fingers.

George couldn't help but become erect when subjected to this treatment, which interested the xeno even more. Apparently taking that as a sign that the human was ready to play again, the alien opened his mouth and slid out the inner jaw, retracting its teeth. Offering it to the human, the xeno looked up at George expectantly.

"Nope. Not doing that." The marine said flatly, putting his dick away and zipping up his pants again.

The xenomorph whined, but George refused to budge, so he tried to break out his secret weapon.

Cautiously sniffing at the air, George found that it was once again filled with pheromones. "Oi! You aren't pulling that one on me again you horny little monster!" He grabbed the pail and proceeded to douse the creature's head and groin with more water, temporarily removing his ability to deploy the airborne weapon.

The xeno growled, but accepted the answer. Rejection was obviously a new experience, but at least he appeared to comprehend and respect consent.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the patter of rain against the tent.

Finally, the human sighed and said "I'm sorry for yelling at you. You were just curious, and that's a good quality to have. It's just that humans have certain boundaries and expectations when it comes to sex, and going at it with a xenomorph is a very new and frightening thing that doesn't really fit within those boundaries and expectations. I appreciate your interest and willingness, it's flattering."

The xeno looked up at him hopefully.

"I'm still not going to screw your mouth though." George concluded firmly.

The xeno made a shrugging motion, apparently coming down from his sex-high. "Not mates. Just friends?" He asked, his voice getting faster and steadier as he used it more.

The marine smiled down at him. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

The xenomorph looked out at the pool of water. "Sorry for…" He appeared to be at a loss for words, so he made a fist with one hand and thrust his hips a little.

"Making me jack you off?" George supplied.

"If that what named; yes." The alien stuttered, still learning how to make complex sentences.

"It is also called masturbation, but jacking-off is a commonly used term."

"Sorry about it." The xeno said again.

"That's okay." George said, resting his palm on the creature's dome. "Everyone needs an intimate touch sometimes; humans and xenos." Feeling curious, he asked "Do you mate with other males often?"

"Yes. And females. Very often. Makes bonds and trust in hive. Also feels good."

"That it does."

They sat in silence some more, before George stood up and retrieved his backpack. Reaching into it, he pulled out the jerky he had found earlier. Tearing the package open, he took a few slabs and offered them to his friend. "Want some food?"

The xeno snatched the meat from his hands and devoured it voraciously. Licking his fingers clean, he asked "More?"

The marine scooped out half the package and fed it to the hungry alien, before eating the rest himself.

Licking his chops, the xeno looked at George expectantly. "More?"

"Good lord, is sleeping, eating, and fucking all you do?"

"And getting attacked by marines." The creature snarked.

'Oh good, he's developing a sense of humor.' George thought sarcastically. He reached into his pack again and pulled out a nutrient bar. Unwrapping it revealed an off-white rectangle about as thick as his thumb.

Offering it to the xenomorph he said "Here. They're all I have, but they don't taste good."

The alien took an experimental bite, then screwed up his face in an expression of profound distaste.

"Told you so."

The xenomorph continued chewing and eventually swallowed, then ate the rest of the bar, apparently hungry enough to brave its horrifically bland flavor. When he was done, he curled up into a ball and prepared to go to sleep.

"I have something for that too." George said, delving into his pack once again and pulling out a large space blanket, which he unfolded and proceeded to spread over himself and the xeno.

The alien, for his part, was now looking at the backpack as if it was some well of infinite wonders.

"Tired?" George asked.

"Yes."

"Me too. Let's hit the sack." He shucked off his jacket and folded it up into a makeshift pillow, laying his head on it and closing his eyes. He felt a puff of warm, jerky-smelling air hit him the face, ruffling his dark brown hair. Opening his eyes, George asked "What is it?"

The xenomorph was lying down on the metal facing him, getting himself comfortable under the blanket. He gently moved his dome forward and pressed it against George's forehead, carefully wrapping his tail and limbs around the man's midsection protectively, as if to say "I won't let anything happen to you."

George smiled and began to hum a simple tune, an ancient lullaby from the twentieth century.

The xeno listened for a moment, then joined in.

They sang softly together as the rain pattered against the roof, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Yay! The third chapter is finally out! No smut here unfortunately (I know you want it. I do too. We're getting there), but it's still good nonetheless. The next one might be out any time from tomorrow to a month from now. I make no promises. That's the nature of writing and of life as a student. I still adore comments and reviews, so keep 'em coming! Enjoy!

Also I'm not a gun nut, so if I got something wrong here, then feel free to correct me.

*You know the drill*

George's sleep was fitful and shot through with nightmares. He dreamed about when he and the other marines first entered the base, about the bloody corridor. He was standing there with Corporal Meyers and the others, staring down the hallway.

A floor panel at the far end burst outward, and a xenomorph emerged, just like the first time. But in his dream, the xenomorph was the same way who slept besides the marine now. George could tell it was him because of the patterns running along his jaws and the side of its dome; they were unique for every xeno.

The xenomorph jumped at them, and the marines opened fire, riddling his body with holes. The alien screamed a human scream, in a human's voice, the voice of George's companion. He fell to the floor dead, acidic blood spurting from countless wounds.

More xenomorphs emerged from the floor, walls, and ceiling, charging the marines from every direction. Countless shots rang out, and countless aliens fell to the floor, screaming in human voices, begging for mercy, for empathy, for pity. One of the aliens reached a marine, the man pulling a combat knife from his belt as the xeno raised its tail. They stabbed each other through their hearts, crying out with one voice, the same voice, as they fell to the floor.

The battle continued, George powerless to do anything but watch. He wanted to stop the violence, to stop the pointless suffering. But he couldn't speak, couldn't even move, until at last he was left all alone, standing in the bloody hallway, surrounded by the corpses of humans and xenomorphs alike. He could still hear the screams, stabbing into his ears like blades.

George awoke with start, sitting bolt upright. He was covered in a cold sweat, perspiring despite the chill. The rain had picked up again, and was now pouring as hard as when he had first landed. He was still a little sore, but mostly the pain had faded.

It hit him then what the point of the dream was, what his subconscious had been trying to convey. The xenomorphs were people, just as much as humans were. They were capable of sentience, speech, recreation, and who knew what else. George imagined a human in the place of all those xenomorphs in the hall, of a human's skull getting torn apart by bullets at it emerged from the floor instead of a xenomorph's dome.

The marine felt sick to his stomach. He felt like a murderer. Opening his mouth to let out a sob, he felt bile rising in his throat. Quickly throwing off the blanket, George leaned over the edge of the metal sheet and retched violently, throwing up into the mud.

When he stopped he wiped a hand across his face, clearing away the vomit from his lips. He heard a quiet hiss behind him, and turned around to see his friend looking at him with concern.

"You are sick." The xeno observed.

"I'm upset. I feel like a murderer." George explained. "I didn't join the revolution or the marines to kill people, I came to save people. But here now I just realized that xenomorphs; you; are people too."

"Did you kill us?"

"No, I'm just a medic. But I watched your kind be killed, and I never said a word to stop it. And I tried to kill you."

"We want to kill your kind and use you to make more of us. Not your fault to stop us. Just protecting yourselves. You didn't kill me. Now we are together; friends. I forgive you."

"Be that as it may, now that I know that you are all sentient too, I have to end the violence against you. It's not right, that you can be just as intelligent as us, but that we only see you as animals." George stood up and stripped off his T-shirt, stepping out into the rain to let it wash over his body, washing away the sweat. He soaked the shirt, wrung it out, then hung it under the roof to dry.

"It is how things are." The alien said simply.

"Sometimes 'How things are' aren't how things should be." George objected, "That's what revolutions are for. That's why I joined the marines."

"Revolution?"

"When people protest and revolt against someone or something that is not good for them. I'm part of a revolution against corporate rule. There are groups of people called corporations, who used to control this part of space. They were cruel and greedy. They took from the people here but didn't give anything back. One of these corporations was called Weyland-Yutani. They were the ones who imprisoned you and the other xenomorphs to experiment on you. But the other revolutionaries and I are trying to make them go away."

The xeno growled. "I heard some of the humans here talking about a revolution. It scared them. They talked about calling for help. Then we escaped. Now they are all dead."

"Yeah, about that." George said, remembering the man he'd seen on the security camera, "At least one of the scientists is still alive. I saw him on a security camera."

The talons emerged from the alien's fingers. "Let's kill him."

"I'm afraid we can't. I would really like to, but we have to respect agreements about the treatment of prisoners. I bet we can still sneak in a punch or two though."

The xenomorph grinned maliciously.

"But before we can do that, we have to get out of here." George said. "I've tried both the elevator and the stairs, but both have collapsed. I was thinking of trying to climb the slope above us. It's not an immediate problem though, we have another day at least before we need to get moving.

The xeno shook his head. "We can get out the same way as the other xenomorphs and me did before; through the ventilation."

"'I'. 'The other xenomorphs and I.'" George corrected. "But it's a good plan. You guys always seem to know your way around the vents."

The xenomorph smiled at that. "We should stay here until we need to leave. You are safe here, and we have food and a nest."

"That's a good plan. Are you sure about the way out?"

"Yes. It was how we escaped after the scientists blew up the elevator and stairwell. They are not good at strategy."

"Excellent. So… now we wait."

They fell silent and stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Waiting is boring. How long do we wait?" The xeno asked.

"I think about thirty hours."

The alien stared at George blankly.

"Oh, yeah, you don't know what hours are. We have a day and a night and a little more to wait."

"Okay." The xenomorph moved to stand up, but winced and fell back down as he tried to get his legs under him.

"Here, let me help." George moved closer and let the xeno wrap an arm around his shoulder. "Stand up with me." He heaved the alien to his feet, finding him lighter than expected for his large size.

The xeno took a few wobbling steps, before letting go of George and stepping off of the metal sheet into the mud and rain. Pointing his head up at the sky, he let the water wash over him, cleaning off the dust and grime that had accumulated over the last few days, along with the last remains of their sexual romp a few hours before.

George was slightly concerned that the plaster over the gash in the xeno's stomach would be damaged by the rain, but thankfully it didn't seem to be affected.

As the xeno cleaned himself, George got a nutrient bar out of his pack and took a bite, trying to ignore the glue-like texture and bland flavor. At least it contained all the vitamins, minerals, and calories he would need for a while.

The alien finished grooming and stepped back inside the tent. The marine tore off a piece of the bar and offered it to him. The xeno looked him dead in the eyes and said "I prefer to starve than eat that."

"Suit yourself." George replied simply, and continued chewing. When he had finished with breakfast he stood up and stretched, then laid back down and was content to just watch the rain fall and wait for the time to pass.

The alien was not so easily sated in its desire for entertainment. He got antsy within the first few minutes, tapping a taloned toe against the metal sheet, looking around for something to do. He then stood up, walked in a circle a few times, and sat back down. Finally the creature became still, staring out of the tent at the rain.

George was relieved; a stir-crazy xeno was not something he wanted to deal with.

The alien tilted his dome towards him a little, which George ignored, thinking that he was just glancing around. Then he felt a tug at the holster on his belt.

"Woah!" The marine shouted, leaping to his feet, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Getting your gun." The creature answered innocently, staring up at him with a hand still stretched toward the holster at the human's hip.

"Why?!"

If the xeno could have blinked he probably would have. "Because it's interesting, and I'm bored." He replied, in a tone like he had just been asked the stupidest question in the galaxy.

"Don't touch it again. It's dangerous and you don't know how to use it."

"Then teach me."

'He's getting quite good with English.' George's subconscious noted. Out loud, he said simply said "No".

"Why not?"

"Several reasons. First off, it makes a loud noise, and I don't want to attract unwanted attention."

"We could go inside and shoot in there."

"I thought that you didn't like it in there. Remember when I suggested going in there yesterday and you curled up and refused to move?"

"I wasn't bored then."

George rolled his eyes. "The second reason is that I have a limited supply of ammunition and I don't want to use it up before I might need it."

"You will not need it." The xeno stated simply.

"Why not?"

"Because I am with you, and I can tell my brothers and sisters not to harm you." His voice took on a slightly sultry tone "If you wanted I could mark you with my scent, and that would make all of the xenomorphs leave you alone whether or not I was there."

George narrowed his eyes "What would that process entail?'

The xenomorph grinned lustily "Letting me jack off on you."

"That is never going to happen." George stated flatly. "And Jesus Christ, are you always this horny?"

The alien made a shrugging motion. "Not being around lots of willing mates all the time is new for me."

"Oh, moving on from _that_, the third reason is that I had hours and hours of exhaustive training before I was even allowed to touch a gun. This will be your first time, and it'll be the real thing. There's too much that could go wrong. And as an extra fourth, you are deadly enough as it is. You xenomorphs took out almost an entire squad of elite marines with nothing but talons, teeth, and tails. Giving you firearms would make you an order of magnitude more dangerous.

The xeno played his trump card: "If you won't teach me how to use the gun, then I will have to stay here and be bored. And horny. I might need to masturbate." He flashed another lusty grin "I might need your help…"

"I told you yesterday that I'm never going to do that again."

"How about I release some pheromones and see if you can resist them this time? I don't think so, but I like surprises."

"Want me to dump water on you again?" George warned.

The xenomorph's grin got wider. "How long can you keep doing that? How long do you think I'll _let_ you keep doing that? I could knock that metal thing out of your hands with a flick of my tail if I wanted, and you'd be powerless to stop me."

George took a step back. He felt like reaching for his gun, but didn't bother. At this range the xeno could and would kill him long before he got it out of the holster. "Are you threatening to rape me?"

The xeno's smile instantly disappeared, and he stiffened noticeably. "No. Never. Rape is bad."

"Oh really? Is that an idea you picked up from humans?" George asked, half-jokingly.

The alien snorted. "I saw many scientists touching females who did not want to be touched. We obviously did not get this from you. Our xenomorph instinct is against rape. It destroys bonds and trust in the hive and does not feel good. We do not rape. Ever."

"Well, see, that's all well and good." George said, relaxing his posture and sitting down in front of his companion, "But what you did yesterday, forcing me to essentially have sex with you after drugging me with your pheromones, that's pretty much rape."

The xenomorph gave him an odd look, which morphed into a sort of lopsided smile, as if he was internally laughing at a joke that only he understood.

"What is it?" George demanded.

"There's something you don't realize about my pheromones." The alien said slowly, with that knowing expression still painted across his features. "They don't work on unwilling people. If you were afraid of me, and I deployed them, you wouldn't notice them, except for the smell. If we were fighting, you wouldn't notice them. If we were even both in the mood to mate, but you didn't want to mate with me and didn't think I was attractive, then they wouldn't affect you."

"The pheromones are not the start of the mating ritual, they are a part of it, to be used during it to enhance the mating." The xeno cocked his head to the side, looking at George as if he were a particularly interesting laboratory experiment. "But you _were_ affected by them, which lets me know that you were both interested and at least kind of willing to mate with me. You can't trick me when you act mad about what we did. You are not really upset at me, you are upset with yourself, for not fulfilling society's expectations of you. You are ashamed to want to mate with a xenomorph."

"And I know you want to. I saw how you looked at my penis. There was want in your gaze, not just scientific curiosity, whatever you might tell yourself. You admired me. Even then, I wasn't sure that you were actually interested in me as a mate because of our different species. So I put out some pheromones, and sure enough…"

He trailed off, leaving George struck dumb. "You got eloquent quick." He said, that being the first thing to pop into his head. "Where did you learn all those words?"

"The scientists said them. I remembered them for later, to copy and use to hunt. Now I get to practice with context."

George sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hands "Look, I don't want to have sex with you, or to be your lifelong mate. I like you as a friend and as a teammate. You're handsome and elegant, I'll give you that, and very well endowed down there. I'm sure you make females and males very, very happy. But I'm not attracted to you like that."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" The xeno asked calmly.

George groaned and buried his face in his hands.

The alien cooed gently and rested a hand on George's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "I might be wrong about my pheromones. All I know is how they work on xenomorphs, not on humans." He stared off into space. "But I don't think I'm wrong."

"Ok, you win." The marine said suddenly, standing up and grabbing his shirt from where he had hung it up to dry. "I'm going to teach you how to shoot."

"What, just like that?" The xeno asked, surprised.

"Yeah, c'mon."

Meyers probably wouldn't have approved of target shooting while being emotionally compromised, but he didn't know and wasn't there to stop it. George just wanted to get his mind off of what the xeno had told him.

His head was swirling, full of what his companion had said. As silly as it sounded, he couldn't be sure if it was true. Was it just left-over lust that had led to him more or less willingly stroking off the alien earlier, or had it been genuine interest in science, or perhaps the xeno might be right and it really was sexual attraction. He didn't want to think about it, and he felt ashamed that he kept thinking about it anyway. Sex was supposed to stay between members of the same species.

He and the xenomorph reached the base of the ladder, and he motioned for the alien to climb up before him. "If you hurt yourself and lose your grip I'll catch you, or at least try and break your fall." The marine explained.

The xeno nodded and began climbing up the ladder.

George gazed up after him and blushed bright red when he got a very good look at the xenomorph's backside, prompting him to stare at the ground instead. When his companion reached the top of the ladder, he climbed up after him.

Stepping through the air-lock and closing it behand them, they walked down the hallway to the office, which was the largest room. George noticed that the xeno skirted around the entrance to the laboratory skittishly, as if he was afraid the room itself might reach out and grab him.

When they had reached the office, the human started rifling around for something to shoot at. He heard the xenomorph growling behind him and quickly turned around, finding his companion holding a framed picture of one of the scientists.

"He hurt me." The xeno explained quietly, rage adding a razor edge to his voice. "He cut me open and poked at me."

"I'm sorry." George murmured.

"He was too, when I escaped and cornered him. He didn't know I could understand him, but he still begged me not to kill him, to forgive him. He sobbed that he was sorry. It didn't stop me. I cut open his belly, spilling his guts all over the floor. I stood and watched as he screamed in pain, trying to keep himself closed with his hands. He screamed and screamed. Then he cried. Then he died. I tore his body apart and left him there. I wish I could have made him suffer more."

'Yikes. Note to self: do not piss off a xenomorph. I guess I was right though, if he had caught me after I sprayed him with steam he probably would have gutted me alive too.' Out loud George said "Well, I guess we found something to use as target practice then." He plucked the picture out of the alien's hands and put it on a table at the far end of the room, then returned to his companion.

"Now," The marine pulled his gun from its holster, "please be careful with this. Watch carefully what I do, then do it yourself." He held up the revolver so that the xeno could see it clearly. "See this little switch on the side here? This is called the "Safety". Right now it's in the "On" position. When the safety is on, you can't fire the gun. Watch." He aimed the gun at the picture and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Oh yeah, and it goes without saying that to shoot the gun you have to pull the trigger."

"I know that." The xenomorph told him.

"Ok. To switch the safety off, you flick the switch to this position." He demonstrated, and his companion looked on attentively. "Now here is the most important part: Never ever point a gun at someone who you don't intend to kill. Never do that. It's called muzzle-sweeping, and it is extremely dangerous. It doesn't matter if the safety is on or off, don't do it. Is that clear?"

The xeno nodded.

"Ok, two final things. Firstly, when you fire a gun, it forces itself back in your direction. This is called "Recoil", and you have to be ready for it, otherwise the gun will fly out of your hands. Secondly, this particular type of gun is called a revolver, and this particular revolver is a double-action. On some revolvers you have to manually pull pack the hammer, this little part here, which also turns the cylinder, this part here, and only then can you fire. Those are called single action revolvers."

"For a double action revolver though, you all you have to do is pull back the trigger, and both the cylinder and the hammer will be moved by it and the gun will fire. This does make the trigger harder to pull though, so keep that in mind."

"Now we do it for real." George took the xeno by the arm and pulled them right up next to each other. He put the grip in the alien's hand and wrapped the creature's fingers around the trigger, putting his hand on top of the xenomorph's. "Ready?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Ok, aim down the iron sights; that little circular thing on top. Good, now let's pull the trigger." The marine squeezed his fingers down on top of the xeno's, and together they pulled back on the trigger. The gun fired with a deafening bang and kicked back hard into the alien's hand. George was bracing to take all of the recoil himself, but the xeno handled it without so much as flinching.

The bullet smashed into the picture dead in the center and exploded, sending shards of wood and flakes of burnt paper everywhere.

"Do all guns do that to the stuff they hit? I don't remember that happening when we fought the researchers."

"No, this one has explosive bullets. Most guns just pull holes in things."

"Can I shoot more stuff? That was fun!"

"Sure, I guess. Have you got the hang of it, or do you need me to help?"

"I can do it."

George removed his hand and stepped aside, watching carefully as the xenomorph looked for a target.

Spotting a bobble-head sitting on a desk, the xeno took aim and fired, blasting the innocent ornament into a million little pieces.

The next item to be executed was a stapler, followed shortly by a computer mouse, another framed picture, a drinking bird, and a coffee mug. The alien hit his target every single time, which surprised George. Apparently xenomorphs learned even faster than was previously thought, although in hindsight that made sense. Going from an embryo to a full adult in just a few days probably necessitated a steep learning curve

The marine made a silent mental note that he was glad to have grabbed the floppy disk when he did, because he was pretty sure it would not be intact anymore had he left it be.

Grinning with destructive glee, the xeno tried to take a potshot at a filing cabinet, but the revolver just clicked. His smile instantly disappeared. "What happened?"

"You've used up all the bullets." George gently took the gun back, flicked the safety on, and opened the cylinder, dumping the casings out into a little pouch for recycling. He took fresh bullets from his belt and loaded them, snapping the cylinder shut when he was done. Replacing the still-warm weapon in his holster, he said "I think that's enough for today. I might need this ammunition later, so I can't afford to waste any more."

"I said that you were safe with me." The xeno objected, although he was probably more upset about losing his new toy.

"Can't take any chances. That's the first thing they teach you when you join the military."

"Then at least tell me more about guns! What were the longer ones which fired faster that the other marines carried?"

"Those are called assault rifles." George explained, walking out of the office and to the break room with the xeno in tow. "Or at least that is their official name. You might hear other people call them machine guns." He sat down in a large cushy armchair facing the door. The xenomorph took this as an invitation to raid the rest of the furniture for pillows and cushions, then assembled them into a nest a meter or so away from where the marine was sitting.

Using his talons to fluff up the improvised bedding in rather the same way that a cat would, the alien lay down and looked up at George attentively.

"How is your injury feeling?"

"Better. I am healing." Without missing a beat, the xeno said "Now tell me about the other guns."

George looked up at the battery operated clock mounted on the wall. He could tell he was going to be here for a while.

It was late evening by the time their conversation finally concluded. It had been a long ramble from guns, to chemistry, to biology, back to guns again, then to weapons in general.

George found it rewarding to talk to the alien; he was highly intelligent and remembered everything he said. But their conversation highlighted something which had eluded the marine's attention up until they point.

"Do you have a name?" George asked.

"No." The xeno replied simply. "Xenomorphs do not have names. We recognize each other by our unique scents."

"Did the scientists here ever give you a name?"

"If they did then I don't want it. I don't want anything from them, least of all something as personal and defining as a name. The only thing I want in relation to them is to inflict upon them suffering for all that they have done to me."

The hours of conversation had sharpened the xeno's language skills to precision.

"Then what should I call you. Not having a title is fine now, but if I ever need to get your specific attention, then I really do need to know what to call you."

"Ok, then let's choose a name for me."

"What, right now?"

"Why not? Do you have anything better to do?" The alien joked.

"You're right, I don't, so I guess we can do it now. Do you have any preference, or…?"

The xeno shook his head.

"Ok, I guess I just start listing off names then. How does Edward sound? John? Clyde?"

"Those are too… normal. Find more esoteric stuff."

"Mary?"

"That's a female's name."

"I knew I guy named Mary."

"Next."

George rolled his eyes. "Ok picky, how about something mythological? Paris?"

"That's the name of a city."

"It's also the name of the prince of Troy in ancient Greek mythology. Oh, that's another good one: Troy."

"No."

"Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon, Nyx, Gaea, Erebus?"

The xeno paused for a moment, then said "Any more?"

"I'm outta ideas if you don't like any of those. I could switch over to Roman or Persian myths if you like, maybe throw in a few Abrahamic ones as well."

"No, I think I've heard enough. I'm tired now."

George looked up at the wall clock. Half past nine. "The shuttle will be here tomorrow afternoon, so I suppose we should get some rest." He tried not to think about what the shuttle arriving would mean, because he himself wasn't sure yet. He didn't know whether he could take the xeno with him or would have to leave him behind. He wasn't even sure if he could show the xenomorph to his squad-mates. He couldn't imagine that encounter ending in anything other than a hail of bullets."

Sighing heavily, George heaved himself out of his chair and went to the door. "I'll be back in a moment, I'm just going to gather up our stuff from outside and bring it here to our new nest-er, encampment."

The xeno nodded distractedly, as though he was thinking about something else.

George walked down to the airlock and opened it, stepping out into the rain. He descended the ladder as quickly as he could, and began packing up their previous camp. He picked up the jacket he had been using as a pillow and quickly put it on, checked to make sure his backpack was fully packed, then took down the tent-roof that had been covering the metal sheet where he and the xeno had spent their first night together.

Packing that up too, he picked up his backpack and jogged back to the ladder, climbing up and inside the airlock again, whereupon he closed the door behind him to keep in what little warmth there was, and to keep out any rouge xenos who felt like exploring this area. What with his xenomorph being present, and with the aliens seemingly being adverse to going anywhere near the old laboratory, he felt reasonably safe, but George didn't feel like taking chances. Not now. Not when escape was so close.

He walked back to the breakroom, closed the door behind him, and turned around to find the alien still staring off into space, lost in thought.

"Ok, I'm all packed up." George interrupted, setting down his pack next to the arm chair. He pulled out the thermal blanket and tossed it to his friend, who spread it over himself. Sitting back down, he bade the xenomorph goodnight before leaning back and closing his eyes. "I always hated sleeping while sitting." The human muttered, more to himself than to his companion.

"In that case, why don't you come down here and sleep with me?" The xeno asked.

George opened his eyes and looked down at the alien. The xenomorph scooted over on his nest of cushions and pillows and lifted up the blanket, beckoning the human to join him.

He hesitated. "Xenomorphs are kinda cold, your exoskeletons leech away all the warmth."

"I can change that. These things on my back; dorsal tubes you called them, I can use them to regulate my body temperature. You want me to be warmer? Your wish is my command. Happy?" He reached out a hand. "And I promise that I won't do any sexy stuff. You have my word. Now come get in here with me, it's obvious you're miserable up there."

Sighing softly, but also with a small smile on his face, George got out of his chair and lay down in the nest with his friend. Like the xenomorph had promised, his exoskeleton was now pleasantly lukewarm.

The xeno covered them with the blanket and wrapped his arms around George's midsection, pulling him close. The marine growled softly as he felt his butt press against the alien's groin.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. This is just a friendly, platonic cuddle." His friend said, annoyed by the human's touchiness.

The xeno sounded sincere, so George tried to internalize what he said. He was quite comfortable, really. The tar colored skin the covered the alien's exoskeleton was quite soft and silky in certain places, like the creature's belly and the inside of his arms. By virtue of the xenomorph's impressive height, George was able to snuggle his head into the nook under his companion's dome, pressing the back of his skull against the alien's neck.

A gentle warmth radiated from the xenomorph's body, and the gentle embrace put George at ease and helped him relax. Compared to the hard metal and tough jacket-pillow of the night before, the cushions under his head were extremely soft and comfortable. He felt himself drifting off almost as soon as he laid down his head.

"Er-e-bus." The xenomorph murmured softly, rolling the syllables around in his mouth. "Erebus. Erebus. What does that mean?"

"In Greek mythology, Erebus was an ancient being who was the personification of darkness and shadow. He was born from the primeval nothingness known as Chaos." George explained sleepily. "Like that one?"

"I do. Erebus." There was triumph in the creature's voice, soft and subtle, but there nonetheless. "That's my name. Erebus."

George smiled and chuckled quietly, sharing in his companion's joy. "Goodnight Erebus."

Erebus chuckled back. "Goodnight George."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

So, I added a quick passage about continuity and lore in the first chapter, but in case you were one of my original readers (Love you guys!) you probably didn't see it, so here it is: As a small lore note, this series will be treating the first two movies as canon, along with the original printing of the Aliens: Outbreak comic from Dark Horse comics. Why? Because I like that continuity better, and it's my personal head-canon. Some other comics may also be referenced, and if they are, then consider them canon.

In effect, this means that Ripley, Newt, and Hicks returned to Earth after Aliens and went on with their lives, as detailed by the original print of the comic.

Sadly there isn't any real smut in this chapter. There's a part about 1/5th of the way in with some pretty sexual overtones, but it's not smut by any measure. I promise it's coming though. There will some explicit oral at the end of the next chapter, and a full on sex scene with oral and anal in the one after that. Just hang in there.

Also, you get brownie points if you can tell me who Dr. Calegary is named after.

As before, I love comments, so let 'em rip!

On to the story!

*Manual Space*

There were no nightmares that night, nor dreams of any kind. Just soft and pleasant darkness. It was the first full night's sleep that George had gotten in a week. The stress of his upcoming first deployment and the disaster that it had turned into had deprived him of any real relaxation or peace of mind. Not that night though. That night he slept fully and calmly.

George was unwillingly roused from this delightfully tranquil repose by a basic bodily function: He needed to piss.

'Oh, god damn it.' The marine reached up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes so he could see the clock.

Nine in the morning. There were still five hours to go.

It was nice and warm under the blanket, but that didn't change the fact that he really needed to go relieve himself. Sighing softly, he tried to get up, only to realize that one of the xeno's arms was still wrapped around him, holding him close like a precious stuffed animal. He squirmed a bit to wake up his companion.

The xenomorph was sleeping soundly, cute little snores emanating from the back of his throat. The human's increasingly desperate wiggling failed to disturb him.

Getting impatient, George elbowed the alien in the belly as hard as he could.

The xeno let out a choked squeak and immediately released him. Sitting bolt upright, Erebus coughed and spluttered in surprise. "What was that for?!"

"I have to go pee, and you were holding me down." George explained, climbing to his feet. The air outside the blanket was cold, but it was better than yesterday. At least now they weren't out in the open.

"And you couldn't hold it for a bit?" Erebus demanded irritably, rubbing his stomach.

"Nope. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go take care of my business."

George walked out of the room and across the hall to the toilet. When he returned, Erebus said "My turn." and got up.

"Your turn to do what?"

"Use the bathroom, silly. What did, you think xenomorphs don't have a sense of hygiene? Figuring out how to use the plumbing was one of the first things we did after we escaped. Clean water and waste disposal on command is very useful." The alien slipped out the door without giving George a chance to ask any more questions.

The human stared after him for a few moments, then shrugged and began packing up the blanket. There would be a better time to make inquires. He made sure everything was packed up, then put on his combat gear and checked his pistol.

Erebus still wasn't back yet, so George jogged down the hall to the security room and turned to the camera in the room that his comrades were in. They were preparing just like him, packing their packs and checking their weapons.

This time it was Meyers who noticed that the camera was on. He looked up into the lens and said "George, is that you again?"

George nodded the camera.

"Excellent. Did you find a way out?"

Another nod.

"Superb. We'll make it out of this yet. Hop to it and get moving."

Meyers ended the exchange there and George switched the camera off again.

As he was getting up from his seat, he heard the xenomorph leave the bathroom, go running down the corridor, open the hatch, and splash into the water below.

Concerned, George ran after him to see what had happened.

The alien was sitting in water that was about chest deep, scrubbing himself off and splashing loudly.

"What's the matter?" The marine asked from up on the catwalk.

Erebus looked up at him blankly. "I'm cleaning myself. It's a morning ritual. Do you not have those?"

"Oh, sorry. I heard you running and thought something had happened."

"No. Just having some fun and getting clean." He finished scrubbing and stood up. Apparently not wanting to get his feet dirty by walking through the mud to the ladder, Erebus splashed over to the wall under the catwalk and pressed a hand against it, testing to see if he could climb up. His hand stuck, so he put another one up over the first and quickly scampered up the wall to join his companion on the catwalk.

"Ready to go?" The human asked. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. A small part of him wanted to stay here forever, away from all the stress and chaos of the outside, with a loyal and intelligent friend to talk to. And he had no idea what reaction he would get from his comrades if he presented a xenomorph to them and said it was friendly. He suspected that it wouldn't be good.

"Yeah."

"Give me a sec, I gotta go get my backpack." George jogged back to retrieve his gear, then rejoined his companion in front of the door to the freezer, the last place he had been expecting to go. "That's the way out?" He asked as the xeno tugged the door open. "There's nothing in there but guts and melted ice."

"And" Erebus slipped inside and pointed to a destroyed ventilation hatch in the far wall "an entrance to the air ducts." He walked over to it and motioned for George to join him. "Here, let me help you up."

The xeno kneeled down on one knee and cupped his hands so George could put a foot up, the marine's fingers curling around the edges of the vent. On the count of three they both heaved, Erebus showing surprising strength even with his injury. He nigh on threw the human into the shaft, causing him to slid forward several meters.

"You ok back there?" George asked, looking over his shoulder as best he could, what with the cramped space and his unwieldy bag of gear.

"I'm fine. I just strained myself a bit. You humans are really heavy." A black, six fingered hand clutched the side of the vent, and Erebus pulled himself in to join George "I'll guide you from back here."

"Ok." George turned on his helmet light and crawled a few meters down the tunnel, then stopped. "What if I encounter a xenomorph in front of me?"

"Our hive is in a different part of the facility, and we don't come back here very often. But if one does show up, I'll just tell it to leave us alone."

George started forward again, more cautiously this time "Will they listen to you?"

"Why wouldn't they? For all the others know, I'm just taking you pack to the hive for food or to reproduce."

George accepted this and kept crawling. After a few more meters, the tunnel curved sharply to the left, then to the right, and let out into a large room filled with coolant cylinders. There were several vent shafts that led out.

"If we're trying to get to the surface, then we should take this one." Erebus said, walking over to a relatively large opening set low in the wall.

George climbed in and kept going, the xeno following behind. They took a few more turns and made a left at a T-junction before the tunnel abruptly curved upward to a ninety degree slope and led up to a ventilation cover about a meter above. George took off his backpack and shoved it into a corner to give himself some more space, then raised himself up to his knees so that he could fiddle with the slated metal cover above him.

"What's going on?" Erebus asked.

"There's a vent cover in the way. I'm trying to get it open." George's hands slid over the edges of the metal, feeling carefully. "I think it's been welded shut."

"That's weird. There wasn't anything here when I used this tunnel to escape. Let me look at it."

George sat down and pressed himself against the wall as they tried to maneuver around each other in the cramped space.

The xeno crawled over George and arched his back upward so that he could mess with the metal obstruction. This had the unfortunate consequence of leaving his groin level with and just a few centimeters from George's face. The tight confines of the tunnel left no room to move, so he couldn't even turn his head. The powerful glare of the helmet-mounted flashlight lit up the alien's crotch and forced the marine to see it with utter clarity.

The slit between Erebus's legs was plainly visible from here, the camouflage useless at such close range and high illumination. A smell wafted from it into George's nose. It wasn't very strong, probably because of the bath that the xeno had taken just a few minutes before, but it didn't have to be. The scent was virile, and unmistakably masculine. It made the marine's legs quiver a little. He wouldn't admit it to most, but he had always been more of a submissive type during sex, and the xenomorph's clear and overwhelming masculinity induced in him the urge to get in bed with the alien, and not in the platonic fashion of last night either.

The human was losing himself in the scent. He doubted that Erebus was doing this deliberately, but it didn't matter. It was probably just a passive thing, a few pheromones leaking out as the creature's attention was elsewhere. It occurred to him then that Erebus was right; he really did want to have sex with the alien. But what would everyone else think? Perhaps he was fine… -ish with it, but what about the rest of society?

'No one needs to know.' George thought, staring at the slit in front of him. He was struck by the urge to lick it. His dick was tenting his pants. 'Maybe just one little lap…' he thought, beginning to open his mouth.

Above him, Erebus growled "Fuck it." and slammed the grate with his fist, denting it severely and tearing it free from the weld which held it in place.

The sudden and very loud sound startled George out of his stupor, and he snapped his mouth shut immediately. 'What was I thinking?! Now is no time for that!' He blushed bright red, glad that the xeno couldn't see him.

"I got it open!" Erebus said proudly, and climbed up over George into the newly cleared passage.

The pheromones lingered though, and the human couldn't stop himself from looking up at the xenomorph's rear as he clambered over him, catching a brief glimpse of the anal slit under the alien's tail.

Erebus turned around and reached his hand down to George, prompting him to crush down his feelings and shoulder his pack once again. Taking the xeno's hand, he clambered up into the vent after him.

Now the xenomorph took the lead, scampering through the darkened tunnels with remarkable ease. They took a few more twists, turns, and junctions before the xeno said "We should be close now…"

As Erebus put a hand forward, the floor of the duct bowed ominously under it. There was a loud creaking sound.

"Uh-oh." The alien murmured.

"What?" George asked.

The vent collapsed out from under them, and they were sent tumbling into what looked like a chemistry lab.

Erebus did a neat flip and landed on his feet on top of one of the counters.

George didn't do that. He fell flat on his face on the floor, screaming in agony as his foot caught on the edge of the table and twisted sickeningly. White hot pain flooded into the human's brain, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

The remains of the ventilation duct and several ceiling panels rained down around them.

Erebus's attention was immediately on George. Hopping off the counter, the xeno rushed over to him and picked him up.

The marine choked back a sob as his ankle smarted painfully.

Gingerly removing the backpack and laying the human down on a table, the xeno checked him over and zeroed in on his ankle.

"I've either sprained it… or broken it." George explained between ragged gasps for air. "Do you remember the pill I put in your mouth before I healed you?"

"The one that made the pain go away?"

'Oh good, it did work.' The marine thought. "Yeah, that one. There's a bottle of them in my pack. Can you get them for me?"

Erebus unzipped the bag and started frantically searching around in it, finding the bottle quickly and handing it to George.

He hurriedly swallowed one of the pills, then handed the bottle back to the xeno. Within a few seconds the scorching pain that emanated from his ankle died down to a dull, if persistent throb.

George sighed in relief and quickly took off his helmet so that he could lay his head down flat on the table. He took several long, deep breaths to calm his pounding heart.

In that brief moment of quiet, they both heard the district sound of something made of glass being knocked over.

The xenomorph hissed dangerously and stood up straight, inhaling deeply. "I smell something."

'Oh do you now?' George thought sardonically, casting a sidelong glance at the creature's groin.

"Look." Erebus whispered, discreetly pointing a finger at one of the cabinets under the counter opposite them.

George looked at it and for a split second saw an eye staring out at them, before the cabinet was pulled fully shut.

"Erebus," George said loudly, "would you be so kind as to go retrieve our guest?"

"With pleasure…" The xenomorph stalked over to the cabinet and promptly tore the door off its hinges, exposing a small, pale man in a lab coat who had curled himself into a ball to try and hide as best he could. He shrieked in terror as the annoyed creature reached down and yanked him out of the little refuge by his collar.

Throwing the screaming and squirming man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Erebus carried him back to George and unceremoniously dumped him onto the table next to the marine, holding the panicked researcher down by firmly placing a hand on his chest.

"Well hi there." George said cheerily, smiling at the terrified young man.

"What's going on?!" The scientist asked breathlessly, face pale from fear.

"You're being rescued. Yaaaaaaay." The marine cheered flatly, making unenthusiastic jazz-hands.

The researcher cast a frightened glance up at the xenomorph restraining him. "Why hasn't it killed me yet? Why hasn't it killed _you_ yet? Who were you talking to; who's Erebus?"

"I'm Erebus." The alien said bluntly.

The scientist shivered and looked back at George "It speaks?"

"_He_ speaks." The marine corrected.

"It has a gender? How do you know that?!"

"You don't wanna know." George said flatly.

Addressing the marine, Erebus asked "Should we kill him?"

The last vestiges of color drained from the poor researcher's skin. "No!" He tried to sit up, and Erebus responded by grabbing his face with his free hand and forcing his head back down against the table, coving the man's mouth with his palm.

"I can crush his skull right now if you'd like." The xenomorph offered in a cold, clinical tone.

Muffled sobs emanated from behind the alien's hand.

Pity welled inside George's heart. He had been planning on sparing the man anyway, but now he realized just how much he could empathize with him. He'd been in a very similar situation just a few hours previously. "Let him go."

Erebus let go and stepped back away from the table, leaving the researcher a heaving wreck, tears pouring down his cheeks. "I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die." He sobbed over and over again.

"Here." George scooted closer to the poor young man and cradled his head against his chest. "It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

Erebus was standing about a meter away, arms crossed, looking on with disapproval.

George raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"We should kill him." Erebus muttered. "He would have done the same to me."

"We don't know that. Did you ever see him down in the laboratory?"

Erebus looked away. "No."

"Then let's assume he's innocent until proven guilty, ok?"

"Fine." Erebus huffed, arms remaining crossed.

George cradled the scientist until he calmed down, at which point the marine asked what his name was.

"Thomas Wentworth. Junior biochemist for Weyland-Yutani." The young man sniffed.

"Well Thomas," George said, sitting up straighter, "we're going to get you out of here, safe and sound."

"Are you on the rescue team sent by Weyland-Yutani?"

George paused. "The what now?"

"The rescue team. You know, the one we sent for, right before all hell broke loose. That's you, isn't it?" Thomas looked at the shoulder of George's uniform, where the Weyland-Yutani patch would be. Except it wasn't there. "What happened to your shoulder patch?" The scientist asked, not putting the pieces together.

"Tom… I'm not with Weyland-Yutani. If I had been, Erebus probably would have murdered me by now. I'm with the revolutionaries."

"Oh." Thomas took that news with surprising composure. Perhaps it had been his close brush with death at the hands of a xenomorph a few minutes earlier; in comparison with that, anything would seem like a peachy alternative.

"What will you do with me?" Tom asked resignedly, laying his head on the table and sighing softly.

"Nothing bad, don't worry. You'll just stay in an internment camp until the war is over, then you can go home. By the way, how long ago did you send for help?"

"About five days ago. They should have been here by now. I guess they're too busy fighting you to show up."

"What was your job here on the base?"

"Biochemist, I already told you. Why is this important?"

"What _exactly_ were you working on here?"

"Cancer research. I was working on a way to control cell growth and mutation. Again, why is this important right now?"

"Just a few more questions." George said "Where did the xenomorphs come from?"

Tom stared at him blankly, like he was having trouble understanding the question. "Over the wall, obviously. I can only assume that they were native to this planet, and we attracted their attention by being here."

"So you were not aware that this research base had a section dedicated to storing and studying xenomorphs?"

The expression on Thomas's face morphed into one of the most genuine horror. "No!"

Erebus was looking at the young scientist intently. "He's telling the truth."

George glanced at him skeptically. "How can you tell?"

"When humans lie they almost always sweat a little and smell stressed, plus the heart rate increases. His smell was only of fear and surprise, and his heartrate was high to begin with."

"They were researching xenomorphs on this base?" Thomas asked quietly, more to himself than to the others. His hand twitched, and he slowly curled it into a fist before suddenly slamming it against the table. "Those bastards lied to me! They told me I was working on a treatment for cancer! Motherfuckers!"

George glanced at Erebus again. "Sincere?" He mouthed.

The xenomorph nodded.

"Did any of the head researchers survive?" Thomas demanded, fury swirling behind his eyes.

"At least one: Dr. Harry Calegary. He's with the remains of my squad over on the opposite side of the facility. We're going to rendezvous when the evac shuttle arrives in a few hours."

Tom slammed his fist against the table again. "Motherfucker lied to my face! I'll fucking kill him!"

"Get in line." Erebus snarked.

"We've all got a score to settle then." George said, "I'm pretty pissed that most of my squad is dead and that I almost died a few times, plus I burnt my face and almost killed a sapient creature because Weyland-Yutani has spent decades lying about the xenomorphs. Erebus is pretty pissed that he got strapped to a table and cut open who knows how many times, and you're pretty pissed that you were lied to and manipulated. So let's all team up and get out of here, and when we do we can make the motherfucker pay." He remembered telling Erebus that they couldn't kill prisoners, but at this point he felt pretty justified in inflicting brutal justice on the doctor.

"I'm in." Tom said.

Erebus just grinned evilly.

"Sweet. Now we just need to meet the evac ship when it lands at the pad."

"When will that be?" Thomas asked.

"Oh, about three hours."

"Then let's get moving." Thomas sat up and hopped off the table. Approaching the xeno, he stuck out his hand "Friends?"

Erebus considered. "Friends." He shook the scientist's hand.

"Do you have everything you need?" George asked.

"I have the clothes on my back, and…" Tom walked over to a computer and extracted a floppy disk from it, "I have my research. Might as well get something out of this mess. Let's go."

"It's not quite that simple." The marine said. "I've hurt my ankle. I can't walk. I have a plan though. If you'll carry my backpack, I think Erebus can carry me."

The xenomorph hardly needed the invitation. He scampered over to George and scooped him up in his arms, cradling him lovingly against his tar-colored chest.

"I guess Erebus likes that plan." Thomas joked. He walked over and shouldered the marine's pack, grunting loudly as he did. "God, this thing is heavy!"

It gave George satisfaction to know that despite his inability to put on real muscle, he was still stronger than the average human.

Thomas stumbled over to the door, still adjusting to the heavy load. He pressed his thumb against the finger scanner for a second before the door emitted a metallic clank and slid open. It was thick, and made of reinforced steel; a good thing to hide behind. Of course, the weakness of the venation shafts sort of negated that advantage.

Erebus followed Tom out into the hall, and quietly shadowed him as they slunk through the darkened building.

"So…" The scientist murmured, apparently thinking that now was a good time for small talk, "How did you guys meet?"

"Oh, you know, the normal way a human and a xeno meet: He tried to murder me a few times. He dropped out of a vent, and then I slammed a door in his face, and then he opened the door and I pulled a filing cabinet down on him, and then we went on a slapstick chase through the facility. I tried to shoot him a couple times, then I took a corner too fast and slammed right into a hot steam pipe, and he caught up and got all smug and was like 'I have you now, muhaha', so I shot the pipe and blasted him with steam and ran away again. Then I reached the edge of the reservoir and stopped cuz I was trapped, and he caught up with me again and was so mad that he jumped at me without looking where he was going, and he pushed us both down into the reservoir."

"I woke up safe and sound, but he had gored himself on some rebar on the way down, so I went over to kill him, but he's a clever son of a bitch, so he mewled really loudly and pathetically, and I found myself pitying him. So I left him there and tried to escape, discovered that I couldn't, and then got lonely and went back and healed him with some medical supplies I found in a lab. Then I discovered that he could talk, so we laid low for a couple days and plotted our escape. Then we found you, and now we're here."

"Interesting." Tom said while peering cautiously around a corner. "How'd you find out Erebus had a gender?"

George paused.

"If you won't tell this story, I will." Erebus whispered cheekily.

"Um… he got an erection at one point." The marine said simply.

"Hm." Tom seemed satisfied by this answer, but the alien wasn't.

"Not good enough." The Erebus whispered. Raising his voice, he said "George thought I was asleep, so he jacked himself off, but I wasn't asleep, and the hormones he released made me really horny, so I got an erection. And then he came over to me and jacked me off too, and even let me play with his parts a bit."

Tom turned around to stare at them, but then just shrugged and said "To each their own. No wonder Erebus cradles you so affectionately."

"Ohnonononono!" George objected, "We're not in a relationship. That was a one-time thing, because he was hurt and also he kinda drugged me with some pheromones. And I was scientifically curious. I mean, what was I gonna do, say no to a xenomorph? Yeah, right. We both know how that ends."

Thomas shrugged again and continued forward, Erebus following closely behind after George finished elbowing him in the ribs.

After a little while more had passed, they reached a set of doors at the end of a long hallway. Thomas pushed them open quietly and they slipped through into a large greenhouse.

"This was Dr. Calegary's pet project." Tom explained, "He liked screwing with flowers and making them bloom in unnatural colors."

The greenhouse was full of blossoms of every variety, even a few weeds, but the ones that caught George's eye were a planter of black chrysanthemums.

Erebus seemed interested in them too. He walked over to them, and George reached down to pluck one up.

"Do you like those?" Tom asked, "He kept packets of seeds on this shelf over here, so we can take some with us if we like. Not like anyone's going to miss them…"

The shelf in question was a round swiveling one, rather like the ones that dispensed postcards in the little knick-knack shops that dotted the outer colonies. The colonists from the core worlds liked those; it gave them some little bauble to remember their "Adventure" with.

Tom swiveled it around a bit and took a few packets of seed.

"Sure, I guess." George mumbled. He had only really had a passing interest in the flowers, but taking some with them couldn't hurt. "How close are we to the landing pad?"

"It's right outside." The scientist pointed through one of the opaque green windows.

"Great. So now I guess we wait here for the ship to show up, and then we book it onboard."

Tom glanced at the xenomorph. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"No. I hadn't forgot. I just get queasy thinking about it." George looked up at Erebus, "I can't guarantee that my team won't kill you. I think you should leave me here with Tom, and you should return to your hive. Go and be happy. I'll do my best to make sure you're left alone."

Erebus looked back over his shoulder at the dark hallway behind them, as if considering the offer. Then he looked back down at the human in his arms and said "But I'm happy with you. You've taught me so much; that the universe is so much bigger than I ever realized, and now that I know how much is out there, I could never just go back to being a hive drone barely clinging to sapience. This might be my only chance to see the rest of the universe. I don't care if I die, I'm coming with you."

"But…" George stammered "What about your life here?"

The xeno snorted "What life? My life consisted of being a prisoner and being tortured until just a few days ago. It's better now, yes, but I'm still just a drone who does the unquestioned bidding of a queen. What sort of life is that? No, I'm going with you, and that's final."

The marine sighed, tilting his head back and staring forlornly at the ceiling.

"Well, I guess we're going to need a plan." Tom said, "It's not like we can just waltz onto a spaceship with a xenomorph in tow."

"How 'bout you run out first when the shuttle arrives and tell the marines not to shoot, and we'll follow behind once you've got there?" George suggested.

"That sounds like it'll work. Good plan."

Their strategy session at an end, George asked Erebus to set him down on the floor, which the xenomorph did. He was trying to rest a little and calm his nerves before the ship arrived. He heard Erebus coo affectionately, and the xenomorph wrapped his arms around the human and pulled him into a gentle cuddle. His skin was silky and soft, and a pleasant warmth radiated from his body.

George was surprised at the affection the xeno showed him, but he felt some affection for the alien too. Over the past few days they had become intimate friends, and in a time like this when he was so far from home and the people he knew, he was grateful for the attention. Snuggling deeper into the xeno's embrace, he closed his eyes.

He knew that Thomas must be staring at them, but the marine didn't care. The physical contact felt so right, and he wouldn't leave it until he absolutely had to.

How long they stayed like that George couldn't tell, but they were finally disturbed by the faint whine of repulser engines, which gradually grew to a deafening roar as the craft approached.

"Well, here we go I guess." George said, untangling himself from Erebus. "I'm either about to get promoted or sent to an insane asylum."

"Or shot." The xeno offered unhelpfully.

"Or that." The marine agreed. He looked up at the roof. "Damn that thing is loud! We're gonna have to book it before all the other xenos show up to investigate."

"Here, come this way." Tom beckoned, opening a door in the side of the greenhouse.

Erebus scooped George off the floor and went to join the scientist.

Peeking his head through the opening, the marine found that the sky was much brighter than before and that it had stopped raining. Angry lightning still streaked between the clouds though. A large, black, vaguely rectangular object was descending through the atmosphere towards them, no more than a few kilometers above. It was perhaps 60 meters wide and 200 long. A military transport; it could carry hundreds of people long distances.

"There's our ride."

In front of them was a large field, perhaps a hundred meters wide and several hundred more long, which was rimmed by grass but had a large concrete landing pad taking up most of the free space in the center.

"When the ship lands, sprint to the loading ramp as fast as you can and tell my squad mates to hold their fire, ok?

"Got it." Thomas affirmed.

The noise grew to a fever pitch as the shuttle moved in to land, the repulser engines blowing waves of dust off the pad and flattening the grass around it.

Landing legs emerged from the belly of the craft and unfolded themselves to press gently against the ground. The engines began to fade as it settled down onto the pad.

"Oh shit." George said "They're powering down the engines. Tom! Run over there and tell them to turn them back on; we need to get out of here!"

The scientist took off and sprinted over to the boarding ramp, which was lowering itself from the belly of the ship.

George spotted a door opening in the building opposite them, and his squad-mates emerged along with the doctor.

Erebus saw this too and growled deep in his throat.

"It's ok. They're my friends." The human soothed, patting the xeno's shoulder gently. "Except that guy." He pointed at Calegary. "We'll get even with him after we're safely off the ground."

Tom and the marines met at the base of the ramp. He started explaining something, which neither George nor Erebus could hear due to the distance and the engines, but was cut off by Meyers, who crossed his arms over his chest. In response, Tom just pointed at George and Erebus.

"Well, I guess that's our cue." George said apprehensively. "Moment of truth…"

Erebus stepped out into the open, and even from across the field George could tell that everyone's jaw had dropped. He smiled sheepishly and waved at his team. "Erebus, jog toward them. Don't run, you might make them panic."

The xeno did as instructed and approached the marines in his best imitation of a casual jaunt.

When they were within earshot, Meyers yelled "Private! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"Um… I made a friend, sir!" George shouted back.

"How the fuck did you do that? And why is he carrying you?" The corporal demanded.

"It's a long story. Can we discuss this on the transport, because we're gonna have a lot of company in just-"

Glass shattered, and everyone looked to the far end of the field to see dozens of xenomorphs emerging from one of the buildings, through doors, windows, or just holes in the walls. They began running at the humans, some on all fours and some upright on two legs.

"Civilians on the shuttle now!" Meyers roared "Marines, for a firing line and fire at will!"

"Wait!" George interjected "Let Erebus take care of this!"

"Erebus?" Meyers shot him a questioning look. "Who is…?"

"Later! Erebus, stop them!"

George's xeno didn't need to be told twice. He quickly set George down and positioned himself in front of the group. Opening his mouth, Erebus let out a deafening shriek.

The charging xenomorphs stopped dead a few dozen meters away, and the leading warrior stood up on two legs and hissed at him questioningly.

Erebus and the warrior exchanged a short series of hisses, clicks, and shrieks.

The warrior looked over its shoulder and made a clacking sound at the assembled xenos, who quickly began to disperse. It looked back at Erebus, made a rapid clicking sound, and bowed slightly, before retreating with the rest of the aliens.

"Woah…" Barns said. He looked down at George. "I like your friend. It's helpful."

"Everyone on the shuttle now! We're shipping out!" Meyers ordered.

Barnes moved to pick George up, but Erebus growled at him. The marine froze and looked at George nervously.

George rolled his eyes and motioned for Erebus to pick him up, which the xeno did. "Sorry Barns. He doesn't like strangers."

"I'm not a stranger! You've known me since boot camp!" Barns protested as they walked up the ramp.

"To Erebus you're a stranger."

"It has a name?!"

"_He_ has a name." George corrected, getting de-ja-vu from his earlier conversation with Thomas.

"It has a gender too?!"

"Hey, I was just as surprised as you were." Tom joked.

At the top of the ramp was a large area that looked like some sort of staging ground, probably for taking on and offloading large groups of people all at once. The ramp whirred shut behind them, and the dull roar of the engines sounded through the hull as the craft took flight once again.

A large door at the far side of the room whooshed open and a crewman stepped through, probably an engineer, given his lubricant-stained overalls. "Hey, where-" He stopped dead when he saw Erebus. "What. The. Fuck."

"He's nice." George said simply.

"And he talks." The xeno added.

Everyone's mouth fell open again. Everyone except for Dr. Calegary, who was giving them both an unreadable look. The engineer just said "Nope", and went right back the way he had come. A red light blinked on next to the door, indicating that it had been locked from the other side.

"Is that what I looked like when I found out?" Thomas asked, letting an amused smiled slip over his face.

"Kinda, but you had an added tone of existential crisis in the mix as well." Deciding that this was a good time to tackle the issue of Calegary, George turned to him, put on a vacant smile, and said "So doctor, it's lovely to finally meet you." His voice dripped sarcasm. "Now you have exactly 60 seconds to give Thomas, Erebus, and I a good reason not to beat your sorry ass into a bloody pulp."

"What the hell are you on about, private?" Meyers demanded.

Calegary's expression remained neutral. "I have no idea what Mr. Canner is talking about."

"So you're trying to tell us that you had no idea about the laboratory? You know, the one with the rather menacing table that was stained green with xenomorph blood, that had instruments specifically designed to be impervious to xenomorph blood? The one that was in that hallway down near the base of the reservoir, the one with the holding cells for xenomorphs just a few doors down, the one right next to the walk in freezer that was full of preserved internal organs from humans and xenomorphs? You're telling me that you, one of the head doctors of the facility, were completely unaware of those things?" George asked, raising his eyebrows. "I find that hard to believe."

Meyers slowly turned to face Calegary. "Is that a fact?" He wasn't really asking.

"No! I had no knowledge of any of that!" Calegary protested.

"You liar!" Thomas yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at the doctor. "You were one of the most important people in the base; in charge of the biological division! You are the most likely person to know what was going on in that entire compound!"

"I saw you outside of my holding cell several times, looking in at us through the glass." Erebus added. "You're lying when you deny it, I can smell the deceit and stress coming off of you."

"Surely corporal, you can't believe the word of a private and a low-level researcher over me." Calegary all but pleaded.

"You're Weyland-Yutani. I'd believe a xenomorph before I'd believe you." Meyers stated coldly "And as it so happens, I have a xenomorph right here whose telling me these things."

The doctor pursed his lips but didn't say anything more.

"All in favor of blowing this son of a bitch out of the nearest airlock?" Barns suggested.

Everyone except for Erebus and Meyers raised their hand.

"I was hoping to tear him apart myself." The xenomorph said.

"Neither of those things are going to happen." The corporal stated bluntly. "We're taking him back to Steele, where he can receive a proper trial and sentence in accordance with the law."

"But he tortured me and my kind, and he murdered your kind to create us!" Erebus protested, "And because of him, almost your entire squad is dead!"

"I am well aware of that!" Meyers roared, cowing even the xenomorph into silence. "And he will be made to pay for those things, but it is the role of the judiciary to see to that, not us."

For a brief second there was silence, then the little red light next to the door blinked off.

"Uh-oh." Erebus muttered.

The door slid open and about half a dozen security officers rushed into the room brandishing pistols and shotguns.

"Hey whoa whoa!" George protested as they surrounded him and Erebus.

"Stand down officers, the creature is docile!" Meyers ordered. He quickly cast a questioning glance at George, as if to check that the statement was true, which the private answered with a nod.

"But it's a xenomorph!" One of them protested, a tall, skinny man with a commander's cap.

"I have eyes. I can see it too." The corporal said flatly. "If it wanted us dead we would be, and your puny small-caliber weapons wouldn't make a dent in it anyway. It carried one of my men to safety and apparently negotiated our peaceful departure with others of its kind." He roughly pushed Calegary forward. "If you want something dangerous to point your guns at, then may I suggest this man here. He was in charge of the base and creator of the local xenomorph population; guilty of all the crimes that that entails. If you would be so kind as to lock him up someplace, that would be greatly appreciated."

The commander opened his mouth to protest again, but Meyers silenced him with a look that could have turned a man to stone.

"Very well. But I am going to have to ask that that thing remains in this room." The officer acquiesced, lowering his gun but never once taking his eyes off of Erebus. He moved behind Calegary and handcuffed him.

"Fine." Meyers said.

The doctor, for his part, did not resist, nor did he voice a word of protest. He merely stared off into the distance with a most dour expression painted across his face. As the commander took him by the arm and began to escort him from the room, Calegary murmured "You'll pay for this" to no one in particular.

The officers followed their leader out, never taking their eyes or their guns off of Erebus until the door whooshed shut and the red light blinked on once again.

The corporal stared after them for a moment, then went and sat against the wall, exhaling loudly. His shoulders slumped as exhaustion and some less recognizable emotion overtook him. "So," he said wearily, "let's address the elephant in the room."

All eyes turned to Erebus.

"I'm not an elephant." The xeno pointed out, cocking his head to the side.

Barns and the female marine laughed, and even Meyers cracked a smile, but it faded quickly.

"No; you're a xenomorph. And you haven't killed us yet. And you can talk. What's the story?"

Erebus gingerly put George down and then sat cross-legged on the floor next to him. "After George was separated from you, I found him and attacked him. He fended me off and ran away, but eventually I caught up and jumped at him. Except I didn't notice that he was standing on the edge of a big water reservoir and we both fell in."

"You didn't notice a giant hole in the ground?" Barns interjected, also sitting down, with the rest of the group following suit.

"I was angry!" Erebus protested indignantly "George slammed a thick metal door in my face and shot hot steam at me! Anyway, he landed safely in the mud at the bottom, but I gored myself on rebar on the way down. When he woke up, he felt pity for me and healed me. I in turn realized that he wasn't going to hurt me, and decided not to hurt him. As we planned our escape, we became friends. He taught me how big the universe is, and I just had to go and see it for myself. On our way out, he fell out of a vent and hurt his ankle, and then we met Thomas here, then we all escaped together. So here I am."

"And you can talk…" Meyers prompted

"Xenomorphs can mimic sounds and voices. It helps us hunt. I used that ability to communicate with George after we had spent a little time together, but it upset him that I was using dead people's voices as my own, so I created my own voice to talk with."

"I hadn't heard about that ability." The female marine murmured.

"Neither had I." George said.

"So I take it that white splotch across your stomach is where you hurt yourself?" Meyers asked

"Yes." Erebus confirmed "It was very painful. George put some stuff on it to keep the wound closed."

"George tells me you have a biological gender." Barns said "Is that true?"

"Yes. I'm a male." The xeno said, as if it was the most mundane thing in the world.

Barns blinked. "Most xenomorphs don't have a gender. As a matter of fact you're the only one I know of who does."

"Oh." Erebus seemed surprised by this. "Most of the xenomorphs in my hive had a gender. Males and females. There were only a few genderless drones. They were the oldest ones, and they were stupid too."

"Fascinating." Barns murmured.

"And that leaves just one more question." Meyers' attention shifted from Erebus to Thomas. "Just who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Thomas Wentworth." Tom said "I was a junior researcher at the base. I was told I was working on a more efficient cancer treatment; I had no idea about the xenomorphs."

"He's telling the truth." Erebus jumped in to defend him.

"And we found no evidence in his lab to suggest otherwise. He even took his work data with him, so we can look over it on the ship if we want to, and it'll exonerate him." George added.

Meyers had fallen silent, and was staring at the opposite wall. Now that his questions were answered, he seemed to have withdrawn from the world.

George wasn't immediately sure what was the matter, but Erebus figured it out very quickly.

"I'm sorry about what happened to the rest of your squad." The xeno said quietly.

"Don't mention it." The corporal said. It was phrased like a pardon, but pronounced like a command.

Erebus fell silent, taking the hint.

The realization that they really had lost almost their entire team hit the rest of them like a punch to the gut, and no one said anything more.

Through the hull of the ship they could hear the rocket engines roar to life as they finally entered space proper, carrying them on toward the Hermes and an uncertain future.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

How long has it been? Two, three months? However long it's been, the correct answer is TOO LONG.

Seriously guys and gals, I'm really sorry for taking for-bloody-ever to get this out. I'm really bad at structuring my time, so ironically, being out of school actually made me progress slower :/

But it's here now, and what you've all been waiting for is also here: the smut. For this chapter, the smut is about 4/5ths of the way through, towards the end. Hope that keeps y'all happy for a bit. The next chapter will come sooner, and if there is smut in it, it'll probably be more of the same. And then in the chapter after that will come the big sex scene, with the oral and the anal, and it'll be great and awesome and whatever.

It'll also be a pain in the ass to write, because smut is actually pretty time and concentration consuming to make.

Be sure to comment and drop a like if you enjoyed.

And without further ado, here it is:

*Manual space*

The journey to the Hermes passed in dual silence. The group in the entryway sat quietly, mourning for their lost, or in Erebus' case, respecting the sorrow of his new companions. The engines outside fell silent as they left the atmosphere, relying on momentum to carry the craft to the mothership.

Erebus looked around. He could see in all directions at once, courtesy of countless "eyes" under his dome (they weren't really eyes; more like extremely light-sensitive patches of flesh, but they performed the same purpose), so "looking" consisted of focusing his attention on one particular direction or thing. What he saw fascinated him. It was like activating his vision for the first time; so filled with wonder was he.

A room of metal, filled with countless artificial lights and sounds, in a big flying metal box. It was so unlike everything he had ever known, and the fantasticalness of it boggled his mind.

Next to him sat George. He liked George. He was kind and dedicated. He wished George would be his mate, but the human didn't want to. That was okay, he reasoned, since George seemed to like him anyway and wanted to be his friend. That was close enough.

Focusing on the human some more, Erebus couldn't help but feel protective of him. George was so fragile compared to a xenomorph; all of the humans were. But he was so intelligent and so kind, and had healed the xeno when he was at his most vulnerable. And he was pretty sexy…

Erebus knew from prior interactions with the human that it wouldn't do to let his cock evert right here in front of everyone, so he kept it flaccid and inside his slit. He thought back to when George had let him examine his genitals, thinking about how they were so different from his. How could the human keep clean with all that fuzz everywhere? What was the point of that skin that covered the tip of his penis? And having his balls exposed all the time and just hanging from his groin seemed an awfully exploitable weakness; just one swift kick or punch…

Erebus couldn't suppress a small flinch.

Thinking about the human's genitals was causing his desire to mate with him to grow stronger, and to keep it in check he decided to focus elsewhere. It was no use dwelling on what he couldn't have.

Analyzing the rest of his new companions, his fighting instinct drew him to Meyers first. Now that he was sure that the human wasn't a threat, Erebus felt a begrudging but genuine respect for him. His face showed the fading scars of many battles well-fought, and his entire demeanor spoke of a warrior who was not to be underestimated. He was strong, for a human, perhaps even strong enough to take on a xenomorph if he had a weapon, and a fierce resolve burned behind his eyes. Erebus was glad not to be his enemy.

He moved on to the female human and the male that George had called "Barns". They were both respectable, for humans. Stronger than the scientists and security-humans had been, certainly. Barns seemed similar to George in that he was good-natured, kind, and intelligent, at least so far as Erebus could tell since they had only just met a few minutes before. He wondered if Barns and George were already mates, but he doubted it, since he couldn't smell them on each other. He rather selfishly hoped that they weren't; still wishing that George would come around and care for him as more than a friend.

The woman though, she was different. Erebus immediately guessed that the fighting with the xenomorphs had not been good for her. Though the rest of her body was very still, her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Fear and distress emanated from her at alarming levels, and every few seconds she would glance up at him, as if afraid he would make a move and become violent.

Erebus knew this kind of behavior well. After battling the humans for control of the base, some xenomorphs had begun to act like that too, always jumpy and easily startled by noise or movement. Something about the violence they had experienced changed them. They couldn't or wouldn't fight anymore. This affected the drones, but surprisingly also the warriors, even though they were made to fight.

The xeno remembered curling up next to a warrior that had just killed a group of security-humans. He hadn't been seriously hurt, of course, just a few cuts and wounds which would soon heal. But that wasn't the matter with him. The warrior couldn't stop shaking and mewling, clenching his bloody fingers again and again, staring at them. Erebus had cleaned him off and taken him back to the hive, but the warrior still wasn't any better.

He had gotten in front of him and raised his tail, offering to mate with the shivering xenomorph, in an effort to make him feel better. He had never taken anything up his tailhole before, but he wanted to help the warrior and make him recover. The other xeno wouldn't move though, and only moaned sadly when Erebus had poked around under the warrior's tail to see if _that_ was what he wanted instead.

The warrior had been totally uninterested in sex, which was very strange. Erebus had even gone and brought a female to try and prompt the xeno into action, but nothing had worked. Finally he had just curled up next to the warrior and cooed comfortingly until he was asleep. Over the following days he had brought food and water, which the warrior consumed, but he never moved from his spot.

Then the marines had come and Erebus had left to go fight them. Now on board the ship, Erebus gulped. He wondered how the warrior was doing. He hoped it was good.

The female human glanced up at him again, and Erebus felt sorrow for her. She seemed such a good warrior in her own right, but now she might never fight again. He wondered if now she might welcome such a change. He wanted to go and comfort her, but it seemed obvious that she was more comfortable with him on the other side of the room. He determined to tell George about her when they reached their destination to see if he could help.

And finally there was the good-scientist, Thomas. "Good-scientist". What a strange thing. It was new, not wanting to kill everyone wearing those white versions of the cloth things that all the humans wore. Thomas seemed nice enough though. He was smart and curious, and also wise enough to know to be afraid of the xenomorphs. George had been upset when the salty water had begun to come out of Tom's eyes, but Erebus had been very pleased. It was good to see a human fearing for their life. It reminded them of who was the strongest and most dangerous being in the room: him.

Now Erebus felt a little bad about it. Thomas was a good-human, which itself was a new concept, and making him afraid like that hadn't really helped anyone.

Looking back, Erebus wondered how many other good-humans there had been on the base. It was now obvious that not all of the humans had known about the torture and imprisonment below their feet, and Thomas was upset when he found out, so maybe others might have been too.

It suddenly dawned on the xenomorph what George must have been feeling when the alien woke up that morning to find the human vomiting into the mud. The horror and regret he must have felt. He had seen the xenomorphs the same way that Erebus had seen the humans, and so many of both races had died as a result. Now it made Erebus feel sick too, but he didn't throw up like George had.

He felt a quiet hatred building in him, a hatred for Weyland-Yutani, a hatred for anyone and everyone who would kill and lie endlessly just to have their own way. It was the beginnings of what he would later learn was called a "Philosophy".

Erebus looked at the floor, then up and around at the room itself. There were no windows, so he had no idea where they were. He had seen the ship come down from the sky though, so he decided that that's where they must be now. The repulser and rocket engines had gone silent, but the floor still vibrated with the thrum of countless other machines. The ship was alive, if only in a very abstract way. That thought comforted the xeno, but also stoked a boundless curiosity, one that had never shown itself fully while he was under the influence of the hive mind.

Erebus desperately wanted to know how the ship worked, to see its mechanisms and operations himself and learn everything about them. And what did he really know? What was this material that he was sitting on?

He stared down at the floor, pondering. He had never thought about that before. Come to think of it, he had never spared a thought for anything beyond the hive and himself. The thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of revenge, the taste of food, the pleasure of sex, these things had been his life, for what brief span of it he had been free to pursue them. But more than that, they had been _enough_. The xenomorph had never desired or thought of anything more.

And why should he have, Erebus wondered silently. Those things where all he had ever dreamed of or wanted.

But now, they all seemed so… distant. The feelings were still there, yes, the desire to hunt, breed, and have vengeance. But now they were lesser; secondary. Firstly, above all else, Erebus wanted to learn. The hive was so tiny, a small part of a large base, which was itself tiny compared to the planet beyond. And there was an entire galaxy of planets out there.

Hunting, eating, breeding; these were no things to make a life of. They were a part of life, but not the whole thing. There was so much _more_. So much more to do, see, and learn!

Erebus felt something deep inside of him, an inexplicable bubbly joy, spreading from his stomach outward, all the way to the tip of his tail. He wanted to laugh, to let his joy out into the world like he had been let out. This was sapience; this was_ living_!

But he couldn't laugh. Because his comrades were not laughing. They mourned their dead, and as this dichotomy fully presented itself to Erebus, he made pact in his mind. Good people had died to allow this for him, this freedom, this sapience. He would not let their sacrifice be in vain.

The ship jolted as the engines came back to life, the roaring easily audible through the hull.

"We are approaching the Hermes." A voice announced through the intercom.

* * *

George went through the airlock second to last, carried on a stretcher by Barns and the female marine. Meyers had gone first, with Thomas behind him. George was holding Erebus' hand, a gesture to remind the crew that the giant black monster was a friend, not a foe. He suspected that it would take a lot more than a friendly gesture to convince them of that.

The transport had docked with the Hermes in orbit, and they were now returning to their own ship.

Through the airlock, a row of people lined the hall on either side, a silent honor guard for those who had been lost.

No one said a thing, but George was perfectly aware of the stares that he and Erebus attracted. Some were merely frightened, but others were hateful. Of the assembled, not a one looked innocently curious.

George wished he could just close his eyes and block out the looks he was being given. They were excruciating, far worse than his ankle.

Meyers stopped in front of a security officer and ordered her to detain Thomas, which George protested.

Thomas merely gave him a "What can ya do?" look and went with the officer.

At last the marines passed the silent onlookers and boarded a lift, which took them up to the medical ward in the center of the ship. There, waiting for them, was the chief medical officer, Dr. Anderson. He stared up in wonder at the xenomorph as they entered.

"Holy shit." He said, looking at Meyers. "You actually did it, didn't you? You really captured a xenomorph."

Erebus growled dangerously, and George felt him squeeze his hand a little tighter. In this strange place full of strange people, he was the only one the xenomorph fully trusted, and the way the doctor was talking didn't help matters. Despite the threat implied in the xeno's vocalization, George could tell that he was frightened. The medical ward looked much too much like the laboratory back at the base for comfort.

"Is that the terminology they used." Meyers said; a statement, not a question. "We did not capture him, doctor, he came with us of his own accord, and he has thus far proved most helpful."

"And it has a gender?" Anderson looked at the xenomorph again, an expression of intense scientific fascination painted across his face.

George gritted his teeth. He knew that countenance well; it was one he had worn many times while in university. He knew it was nothing more than a mere expression of innocent curiosity, however eccentric Anderson himself might be.

To Erebus though, who had been made to endure countless doctors and their "curiosities", it would look downright predatory.

The xenomorph growled again, louder this time, and squeezed George's hand harder.

"Ah, but that can wait. Here." Anderson led them into a private medical suite and pressed a button on a control panel, extending the bed from its alcove in the wall. "Set the patient down please."

The marines set the stretcher down directly on the bed and stepped away from it, allowing Anderson to take a closer look at George' ankle. He looked up at Erebus, who was standing on the same side of the bed as he was, still holding George's hand, and said "Excuse me. I need some space to work."

Erebus made a show of readjusting his grip on Georg's hand to be more secure, hissing loudly while pulling back his lips into a restrained snarl.

"Ooo-kay then." Anderson raised his eyebrows behind his round wire-rimmed spectacles, "I guess I'm going over here". He walked around to the other side and began to examine the marine's ankle. "So private Canner, how did you manage to tame a xenomorph?" The doctor asked as he began his work.

"Mr. Anderson," George deliberately used a title that he knew would demean the doctor's position, something which he knew the man hated, to get his attention, "_Erebus_ was not 'feral' when we met, and he certainly isn't 'tame' now. With that in mind, I would advise you not to incite his wrath."

"Sorry." Anderson huffed contemptuously. "I suppose I should ask how you and the xe-" He saw the look on George's face and immediately corrected course "um, Erebus met."

"Erebus chased after me and accidentally knocked us both into an empty water reservoir. He was hurt and I wasn't. I couldn't get out on my own, and he seemed so helpless and…" George searched for the right word "meek. So I healed him with some medical supplies I found and we escaped together."

"And you named him Erebus?"

"I chose that name for myself." The xenomorph said, annoyed.

Anderson jumped, his blonde hair standing on end like a startled cat.

"Yeah, I can talk. And I can understand every single word you say."

Anderson stared at him. "Oh." He croaked. Gathering himself, the doctor straightened his glasses and assumed a more composed stance. "Well," he began, trying to sound nonchalant, "George's ankle isn't broken, just mildly sprained. I can give him some pills and he'll be back at full capacity within a week. He left for a moment and returned with a glass of water and two tablets, which he instructed George to swallow.

The marine did so, and then asked, "Can I stand up?"

"You can, but I wouldn't advise it. Your ligaments will heal faster and hurt less if you don't put pressure on them. I would personally suggest that you retire to your quarters for a week and rest."

"That can be arranged." Meyers said, "We have to return to Steele anyway. Without the marines we lost down there, we don't have enough soldiers to be an effective fighting force. I'm sure the leadership would also be interested to see Erebus for themselves. George, consider yourself on leave for the return trip. Go and get some sleep. You've earned it."

As the marines moved to pick up George's stretcher, Anderson looked at the xenomorph and said "Speaking of seeing Erebus for oneself, could you please sit down on the bed for me? I would very much like to examine you."

George inhaled sharply. That was the wrong thing to say.

Erebus looked down at the bed, back up at Anderson, then raised his arm and backhanded the doctor across the room.

The marines fumbled for their weapons, Meyers instinctively drawing his pistol, but Erebus was faster, slapping the weapon out of the corporal's hand with the flat of his tail.

"Stop! Stop it! Everyone stop!" George cried, raising his hands.

The room became still again; but everybody was tense. Erebus' tail twitched dangerously, and his teeth were bared in an angry snarl.

"Doctor, are you okay?" George called.

Anderson groaned, but managed to heave himself to his feet, grasping at an electrical panel for support. His glasses were broken and he had a black eye. Blood dripped from his nose. "Right." He mumbled, "That was the wrong tact."

Erebus hissed through his teeth, and despite being banged up, Anderson looked at him curiously. Apparently even sustaining bodily harm wasn't enough to dissuade him from wanting to study the xeno.

'Goes to show what a nutter he is.' George thought. Out loud he said "Perhaps Erebus and I should retire to my quarters. We should try to avoid any more altercations like this."

Meyers looked at him skeptically. "You mean leaving you alone with a xenomorph for an extended time frame? That could be dangerous."

George suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Comrade Corporal, I've been alone with him for 48 hours. If he was going to do something to me, he would have done it already." He sighed. "I trust him. I really do. He's a good person."

The corporal also sighed, exhaustion visibly overtaking him and pushing down any protests. "Fine. If you trust him, so do I. Take George to his quarters, then take some time off to rest yourselves. We all need it." He instructed the other marines.

Barns and the female complied, but when they were halfway out the door with George, klaxons began to wail and the emergency lights went red and started flashing. Through the crackling intercom, a voice said "Enemy vessel sighted. All crew report to battle stations."

Erebus immediately dropped into a combat-ready stance and hissed loudly, baring his teeth.

"Shit, what is it _now_?" Meyers swore through his teeth. He pointed at the other marines "Your orders have changed. Take George to his quarters, then meet me on the bridge." He stormed out of the room.

"What's going on?" Erebus demanded as the marines shuffled them out of the room and back to the lift.

"Another space ship, like this one, has been detected. But it's an enemy ship, so we'll have to fight it." Suddenly George remembered the transport docked with them. "Shit." He looked up at Barns, "What about the transport?"

Barns gritted his teeth. "I don't know. Depends on the situation."

Erebus looked between them worriedly "What depends on the situation?"

"This ship is very fast." George explained "Fast enough to outrun most other ships. But the transport is not fast. We might be able to escape the enemy, but the transport cannot. But every ship matters to the revolution; we don't really have the industrial capacity to build them in the numbers required to wage conventional war."

If Erebus could have blinked he probably would have. "What is 'industrial capacity'? What is 'war'? What is 'conventional'? How does that relate to 'war'? What does it mean to 'wage'?"

George looked up at Barns forlornly, "If he keeps it up like this we're going to have to divide into shifts to answer his questions."

They stepped into the lift and with a loud whir it began to ascend the shaft, stopping a few decks up. The grated steel doors slid open, and the group exited into a posh atrium. Or, it used to be a posh atrium. Where once there had been a smoking lounge there was now a makeshift break room, the sofas and recliners replaced by folding chairs and thin metal tables. The carpet, once thick and a rich red, was trodden and torn by countless studded boots, its color fading due to the abuse and neglect. The chandelier had been removed, and the gentle, candle-like light fixtures had been replaced with the harsh shine of military-grade incandescents. Where once the walls had held paintings and works of art, now were plastered propaganda posters and news bulletins. At the very top of the atrium there used to be a grand window gazing out into space. Now the hardened glass was gone, replaced by reinforced steel plating.

But even here, the klaxon wailed and the lights flashed. No matter what she had used to be, the Hermes was a warship now.

Erebus stopped dead as he stepped out of the lift, seemingly in awe of the grand room before him.

"Woah…" He breathed.

"Yeah, fancy. Now come on." George prompted as the other marines carried him out of the lift. The xenomorph remained silent as they crossed to the grand staircase on the far side of the room, probably taking in the sights, although since he didn't move his head it was hard to tell.

George was carried up the stairs, then down a hallway to the right. At the third door on the right, they stopped. The female marine opened it and they maneuvered George through on his stretcher.

Inside was a room in much the same condition to the atrium; once rich carpet now trodden and worn, art removed to be replaced with a few choice posters and newspaper clippings, the posh furnishings removed except for a four-poster bed against one wall. The rest of the room had a simple desk, folding chair, and bookshelf for furnishings. A brass switchboard was mounted into one wall, previously for calling servants, now for communicating with different parts of the ship, hastily scrawled notes pasted under each button.

Barns and the female set the stretcher down, then lifted George up by his shoulders and knees and set him on the bed.

"If you need anything, just call." Barns indicated the switchboard. "Speedy recovery comrade!"

He and the female marine folded up the stretcher and jogged out with it, shutting the door behind them. George was left alone with Erebus.

The xenomorph slowly walked around the room, investigating everything he saw.

As he did this, George shucked off his coat, shirt, and pants, leaving just his underwear on, and drew the covers and blankets up over himself. He was absolutely wiped out. Despite the possible impending battle, he just wanted some sleep.

Erebus though seemed to be at the height of his energy. He seemed fascinated by every small thing, even crawling up the wall to look at the switchboard from a different angle. "What is this thing?" He asked, looking up at George expectantly.

"Switchboard." The human mumbled, eyes closed. He was already half asleep.

"What does it do?"

George did not immediately respond. On one hand he admired the curiosity of his companion. On the other, he didn't really feel like explaining electronic communications to him just now. "I'll explain later." He finally said, hoping the xeno would take a hint.

If he did, it didn't stop him. "Are you tired?" Erebus asked, even sounding slightly incredulous.

"Ding-ding-ding." The human muttered.

"I don't know what that means."

"Means 'yes'."

"Oh."

There was silence for a few seconds, lending George some hope that the xeno had finally shut up, but then the alien started talking again, this time closer, just off to the human's left. The marine surmised that he had walked over to him in the intervening silence, the carpet and the creature's natural silence masking his movement.

"What are you lying on?"

"It's a bed. It's where humans sleep."

Silence. Then: "Can I join you? In the bed?"

George opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at Erebus.

He was standing at the bedside, hands clasped in front of him earnestly, looking down at the human with a neutral expression.

The marine took a moment to consider his situation. In front of him stood a xenomorph. His natural enemy, an alien, and a threat to all non-xenomorph life everywhere; talking to him as a friend. He looked upon the great, black creature, with his teeth and claws and tail, dorsal lobes sprouting from his back and elongated head resting in his shoulders. And he wasn't afraid in the slightest.

Erebus was his friend. A person. Trusted and trusting.

George smiled warmly. Scooting over a little, he lifted up the covers and said "Hop in!"

Erebus grinned, a primal expression of countless razor-sharp teeth, and one that didn't faze the marine at all. He slid into the bed with George, who drew the covers up around them both. Due to the protrusions from his back, Erebus had to lie on his side facing the him, though neither minded this.

The xeno squirmed slightly, running his hands along the blankets and pressing his body against the bed experimentally. "It's so soft and warm." He marveled.

"Just like you." George teased, thinking back to the night he had spent curled up with Erebus on their little nest of cushions.

Erebus made his amused chuffing noise and grinned playfully, also remembering that night. "Yeah, just like me. Wanna do that again?"

"Sure." George flipped onto his other side and scooted backward until he was once again spooning with the xeno. He dragged the pillow over to them and lifted up Erebus' head so he could slide it under them.

Setting his head back down on the soft fluffy thing, Erebus purred happily.

George was also pretty happy with his situation. With most of his clothes off, a lot more of his skin was in contact with the xenomorph's. His companion's flesh had a texture not unlike rubber, but smoother and softer, less sticky. His friend's skin was once again a pleasant lukewarm temperature, and he could feel himself drifting off.

This was where he belonged. In an embrace with someone he cared about, and who cared about him. Here, he could just take a minute and forget about the war, the death, the fear, the pain. It was just him and the one he… loved?

George took a moment to consider this. It was really too early in their relationship to call what they had love, but somehow it seemed vaguely appropriate, almost like he and Erebus had been made for each other. They seemed to have so much in common: curiosity, intelligence, even general sexuality, though it seemed to George that Erebus was more bisexual, whereas he himself was exclusively homosexual.

It occurred to the marine that if Erebus was a human, they would be banging and dating already. So… what was stopping them? Species?

'Why does that matter?' A little voice asked from the back of his head, 'What relevance does species have? You're not religious, you're not married, you're not even much of a philosopher. Why not just mate with him?'

'Because it's icky.' George shot back.

'How?' The voice demanded.

'Because he is an entirely separate species!'

'But why does that matter? He's sapient, he's expressed both emotional and sexual interest in you, he's nice, his interests are similar to yours, and he's got a dick. He's everything you've ever wanted in a partner. Species is arbitrary.' The voice stated matter-of-factly.

George mulled this over silently. As a man of science, he couldn't really deny what the voice was saying on a literal level. Philosophers could hem and haw all they wanted, but so far as observable reality went, the voice in his head carried the field.

It being his way, George calmly began reorganizing his worldview around this new reality. He had been raised to treat all humans as equals, no matter their gender, sexuality, or ethnicity. Following the logic of this to its conclusion, when presented with a xenomorph that displayed an overwhelming degree of human characteristics, he had treated him as an equal and as a person. Now it was time to complete that equality, and make him equal in his mind.

"Erebus?" George whispered, gathering his courage. It had happened countless times before of course, and it was supremely unlikely this time, but fear of rejection still gnawed at the marine's heart.

"Yeah George?" Now Erebus sounded tired too. Apparently being in a comfy bed and snuggling with his friend had put him in a drowsy mood.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?"

George took a deep breath. Moment of truth. "I've been considering your interest and my outlook, and I've decided-"

"Private Canner!" Meyers shouted.

George sat bolt upright and looked at the door, panicked. It was closed.

"Private Canner!?" Meyers called again.

The marine followed the voice back to the switchboard. Thank goodness, no one had walked in on them.

George quickly clambered out of bed and pressed the button that had "Bridge" written on the sticky note underneath it.

"What is it comrade corporal?"

"Report to the bridge ASAP."

"Yes comrade corporal!"

Meyers rang off, and George turned to look at Erebus sadly "No more bed for us." He threw on his clothes as the xenomorph climbed out.

"But it's so comfy!" The creature protested.

"Corporal's orders." George said evenly, although on the inside his body was protesting just as vehemently as the xeno was. He was exhausted, but orders were orders.

Shaking his tail free from the sheets, Erebus asked "What's the bridge? And where is it?"

"It's… follow me, I'll explain on the way." George opened the door and he and Erebus began walking to the elevator, the marine limping noticeably as his ankle smarted with each step.

"Stop. Let me carry you." Erebus said, seeing this.

"Uh…" On one hand, George rather liked being carried by the xenomorph. On the other, it would be humiliating to be seen like that by a member of the crew. Plus, they didn't much like Erebus, and the marine was worried that they would be offended if he started openly showing affection for the creature right off the bat.

He looked up and down the hall. Deserted.

"Ok, I guess. But put me down if you see or hear someone coming." George warned.

"Ok." Erebus picked him up and cradled him gently in his long, spindly arms. "So what's a bridge?"

"On a space ship, the bridge is the part where the ship is controlled from. The bridge crew; the humans on the bridge, send instructions to humans in other parts of the ship."

"Through the switchboards." Erebus guessed.

"Yeah. That's how we make the ship move and fight."

"Fight?"

"Some ships can fight other ships. Some can't." George said simply.

"Fight how?"

"It's…" George trailed off. "Complicated. Can we talk about it later?"

"Ok." The xeno sounded disappointed

They walked the rest of the way to the lift in silence, and as they rode it up, George asked Erebus to set him down on his feet so he could walk the rest of the way.

"Why?" The xeno asked, although he did as he was told.

"Because," George winced as he had to put weight on his bad ankle "It's embarrassing to be seen being carried by you. I don't have anything against you, but it would make other people give me weird looks if they saw it."

"Oh." Erebus was apparently smart enough to know why, and so didn't comment further.

The doors opened and they walked the roughly hundred meters to the front of the craft. A guard stood next to the door, staring at the xenomorph as they approached. George noticed her nervously re-adjusting her grip on the rifle she was holding.

They stopped in front of the door and waited for several seconds, before George looked at the guard expectantly and cleared his throat, rousing the woman from her fixation on the alien.

She hurriedly punched in a code on the keypad next to the door, screwing it up the first time because she glanced up at Erebus again and hit the wrong key. She tried again, got it right, and the door whooshed open.

The bridge was rather small, a mere dozen alcoves with monitors buzzing away, and a big, fancy chair looking out the front window, which was reinforced with steel beams every meter or so. In that chair sat Meyers, gazing down at the monitor in front of him with a serious expression. Barns stood beside him, also looking at the monitor.

Several technicians and officers were also on the bridge, talking quickly, typing away in front of monitors, or looking out the port side windows. They all stopped and fell silent when George and Erebus walked in, turning their heads to stare at them.

George was glad he had gotten Erebus to set him down on the lift; he would have died of humiliation if he had walked in on this while being carried like a child. As it was, he still felt hot with embarrassment at the sudden attention.

The bridge crew knew better than to loiter while Meyers was on deck though, so they went back to their previous occupations within a few seconds, although to George they felt like years.

"Ah, you're here. Good." The corporal said, standing up and walking to them.

Barns smiled and waved at the pair, then sat down where Meyers had been and started typing something out on the computer.

"What's the situation, comrade corporal?" George asked.

"Corporate frigate. Roughly twice our length with three times the firepower and heavier dedicated armour. It dropped out of FTL while we were in the infirmary and has been closing rapidly. I had the transport transfer Calegary to us for potential use as a bargaining chip, then detach and make a dash for it. One they're out of the planet's gravity well they'll be able to jump to FTL. We're staying behind to buy time."

"Not to sound selfish, comrade corporal, but why are they running and not us? We have more powerful engines, and I daresay that a warship like ours is more valuable and harder to replace than a transport."

"That's true. But on a larger scale, we're fighting an enemy that is much larger, better funded, and better supplied than we are George. We can't play this game conservatively; we have to play to win. Because if we don't win, we'll lose. There is no middle ground nor room for error. So I decided to let the transport get away, and we'll stay and defeat the enemy. Frankly, it's all or nothing."

"Defeat them how? They outclass us in every regard."

Here Meyers smiled, almost menacingly. "We'll defeat them because I have a pair of aces up my sleeve."

"What-"

"He means us." Erebus interrupted. "I don't know what aces are, but I know what a pair is."

The bridge crew stopped what they were doing to stare at the xenomorph again, but were corrected by a hard glance from Meyers.

George balked. He had to physically resist the urge to ask the corporal if he had lost his mind; this might have been a revolution, but mouthing off to an officer would never fly. He struggled to construct a query that wouldn't sound disrespectful.

"How- how is that even feasible?" The medic stuttered. "I mean, we would have to get over onto their ship, my ankle is not even close to being passable for combat, and we'd be outnumbered a hundred to one. Even if we hopped in a shuttle and got there without being shot out of the sky, they'd just blow us away the second the airlock opened."

"It's feasible because their commanding officer is a narcissistic idiot with delusions of grandeur. He wants me to personally come over to his ship to discuss terms of surrender. But he doesn't want a flag of truce, so he can blow us out of the sky anytime he wants, or at least threaten to. He sent me a video message over the comms saying as much. But here's the clincher; I didn't send him a video back. I just had Wallace send him a message saying that I accepted, and that I would need about half an hour to prepare my formal wear. And like the corporate narc that he is, he took the bait. So now he's expecting a man in an officer's uniform to come on board. But he doesn't know anything about the looks or mannerisms of the man wearing that uniform."

George's commanding officer was, by now, grinning like a loon from ear to ear. His tone had become one of maniacal joy as he spoke.

He was definitely a grade-A schemer, George decided. Clearing his throat, the private asked "But comrade, what do Erebus and I have to do with all this?"

"Simple. You will go in my place to meet with the enemy commander. That fool let it slip that their ship was the same general design as ours, which means that there will be a separate engine section. You'll both go over there in a shuttle, and when you arrive George will go to meet with the enemy commander to stall for time while Erebus remains hidden in the shuttle craft. When the coast is clear, Erebus will take an explosive device to the engine section and use it to blast open an emergency reactor valve, which will take a while to diagnose and override, and even longer to get the fusion reaction going again. This gives us a window to attack them. I've chosen you and Erebus specifically for this assignment because you two seem to work well together, and because Erebus's speed and agility will come in handy for dodging guards and moving quickly towards his target."

"So you're asking us to go on a suicide mission." George stated flatly, crossing his arms.

"Not necessarily. The weakest point in the other ship's armour is the beam connecting the engine section to the main section. It might take a few minutes of sustained fire, but at close range and without any interfering fire from our enemy, our ship's guns are powerful enough to punch through and crack the beam in half, which will disable them permanently. After that they'll have to surrender or we'll be able to annihilate them at our leisure. We'll be able to detect the reactor venting from here, and once we do, we'll give you a fifteen minute window to organize their surrender to us. If they have failed to surrender in that time, then we sever the beam. Once we do that we'll give you another ten minutes. Then we'll begin systematically blowing them apart piece by piece."

"So it's only suicide if we fail. How reassuring." George looked up at Erebus "Tell Meyers that this is insane. You can't possibly-"

"When do we start?" The xeno demanded excitedly, grinning in much the same fashion as Meyers.

George grabbed his friend's arm and looked at Meyers apologetically "May we have a moment?"

The corporal rolled his eyes, but motioned for them to go.

George stalked over to the door, the point on the bridge farthest from anyone else, borderline dragging Erebus along behind him. When they got there, he turned to face the xeno and hissed "Are you crazy?! You can't seriously want to go through with this!"

"Why not?" Erebus asked earnestly.

"Because it's suicidal!"

The xenomorph stared at him blankly.

George had to take a moment to marvel at how intuitively he could read the xeno's expression purely by the position of the lower face; his mouth and lips; since the creature had no eyes or eyebrows, which were normally the biggest clue to how someone was feeling or what they were thinking.

He took a breath and explained. "Suicide is when someone kills themselves. To do something suicidal is to do something that will probably kill you."

Erebus was unfazed. "I still want to do what Meyers suggested."

"Why?"

Now it was Erebus's turn to be annoyed. He straightened up to his full height and crossed his arms "I'm not going back into a cage, George. And if we get captured here, that's where Weyland-Yutani will put me. I have not come this far just to lose everything. I'd rather die, and if I do, then so be it. At least I'll die free."

George sighed heavily, staring down at the floor. "Ok." He said quietly. "I can't argue with that. Let's do it."

Returning to Meyers, George said "Fine. What do we need to do?"

* * *

George shifted uncomfortably in the baggy dress uniform Meyers had given him to wear. Sweat made gripping the controls difficult, although he could have sworn his hands were ice cold.

"So this is a smaller ship that comes out of the big ship?" Erebus asked, amazed.

George glanced over his shoulder to look at him. The xenomorph was crawling up on the wall and looking out the porthole at the great empty void of space outside. He was wearing a bandolier of assault rifle magazines, and in fact had one strapped to his back, nestled between his dorsal lobes. Around his other shoulder was the strap to a rucksack filled with high explosives.

"Yeah. It's called a 'shuttle'." George explained, watching nervously as Erebus pressed his head against the window. "It can't go as far or as fast as the larger ships. Hey, could you please move your head away from there?"

"It's very dark outside." Erebus noted, backing his dome away from the window a bit. "What's out there?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Erebus looked up at the human opposite him "What does that mean?"

"There's nothing out there. No air, no dirt, no water, nothing. It's all empty; that's why it's called 'space'."

"Oh. Why is there air and dirt and water on the planet and not out here?"

"Because of gravity."

"What's that?"

"Can we talk about it later? I need to focus on flying the shuttle." George turned his head back forward.

"We might not be alive later." Erebus murmured quietly.

George didn't respond, and the xenomorph went quiet.

The medic went over the events that had led him here in his mind, quietly reliving the past 30 minutes of his life.

After he and Erebus had agreed to go along with the plan, Meyers had (with great difficulty) convinced the xeno and medic to part ways for a while so that they could prepare separately, with Erebus accompanying Barns to the armory to get kitted out and taught how to use properly automatic weapons, and the corporal showing George the message that the enemy commander had sent them, then taking George to his quarters so that he could get fitted into his officer's uniform.

They had made a few modifications to the seams, but hadn't had time to properly resize it, so it was still quite loose and sagged noticeably off George's shoulders. Luckily the medic had found the perfect solution to this when inspecting himself in the mirror; just claim that he had lost weight due to stress and over-work. He certainly looked the part. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, which were dull from exhaustion.

Back in the present the enemy vessel slowly loomed out of the darkness, floodlights flickering on to illuminate the exterior for the incoming shuttle.

George heard scampering behind him, then the xeno was by his side, staring out the front viewport.

"Wow." He said simply. "Is that what our ship looks like?"

"Yeah, more or less. This one is bigger."

"What's that?" Erebus pointed at the long beam connecting the forward section with the rear.

"That's the beam. It connects he front of the ship to the back of the ship. It's the thing that the Hermes will cut in half."

"Why are they separate?" The xeno asked, craning his neck to try and get a better view.

"The back part of the ship is where the engines are. The engines are what makes the ship move. The engines are powered by a fusion reactor-"

"The thing with the valves I'm going to blow up. Barns told me all about it."

"Yeah, that. The reactor makes a lot of radiation. Radiation is… complicated. Essentially it's a bunch of really tiny particles that are moving really fast and can burn you. You can't see it, but if there's enough radiation then you can feel it. The reactor makes so much radiation that it's safer for the people in the ship to just put the engines and reactor in a separate section, cover it in armour, and then put some space between it and the rest of the ship."

"I'm going to the part of the ship where the radiation is. Will it hurt me?"

"No. Xenomorphs have special skin that is tough for radiation to get through. You can also survive out in space, at least for a little while."

"Cool!"

They were coming in around the side of the ship now, preparing to dock in one of the small hangers.

"You know the plan, right?" George asked nervously. It wasn't so much for the xeno's benefit but for his own. He needed reassurance that Erebus knew his part of this crazy scheme and could carry it through. Meyer's last words before his departure floated through his mind "We're counting on you George."

"Yeah, I know what to do. When we land, I will hide there-" The alien pointed at an empty compartment just about the airlock, which was normally used for storing extra oxygen canisters, "-and when no one is around I'll sneak out and go to the engine section and blow up the valve."

"And you remember how to get there, find the right valve, and set the charge?"

"Yep. I can see it perfectly in my head. The pipe is silver with red stripes, and I put the explosives on the valve where it meets the base of the reactor."

The shuttle was pulling into the landing bay now, landing gear extending.

"Do you have any questions?"

"What's a narc?"

This might have been a surprising thing to say if Erebus hadn't been asking questions constantly from the get-go.

"I meant do you have any questions related to the mission."

"No. What's a narc?" Erebus asked again.

"Well a long time ago it was used to refer to a narcotics officer, but now it's slang that means someone is a narcissist." George explained as the craft touched down. He pushed a few buttons and depowered the thrusters.

"What's a narcissist?"

"Ok, last answer till we see each other again." George smiled, turning around in his chair to face him companion, silently hoping that they would. "A narcissist is someone that thinks very highly of themselves, but is in fact stupid or incompetent."

"Ok." The xenomorph gracefully leaped up into the compartment, tucking himself inside and coiling his tail around his torso to save space.

He looked almost cute in there, George thought, although if any of the crew found him the resulting scene would probably be a lot less cute.

"Here." George went and stood underneath Erebus' compartment, holding up his watch. The xeno was wearing a similar one, strapped as close as possible to his spindly wrist, and together they pressed the start buttons, synchronizing the 15 minute countdown.

"You remember how the numbers work, right?"

"Yes. And their order, and how many numbers are in a minute."

"Good."

Looking at the ramp in front of him, George tried to psych himself up for the performance ahead. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was breathing heavily. He tried to imagine what a commanding officer would do, but couldn't manage it. His breathing got heavier as he struggled to even think of what he was going to say to the guards who would come and escort him to the commanding officer.

"Hey." Something poked him in the back of his head.

Tilting his head up, George saw Erebus looking down at him from his alcove, smiling. He reached a hand out, and George instinctively brought his up to meet it, his fingers intertwining with the xenomorph's own as they held hands.

"You're gonna do great. This is gonna work." Erebus said reassuringly. "Stay calm." He reluctantly pulled his hand away from George's and scooted back further into the compartment. Smiling down at the medic one last time, he pulled the panel shut, concealing himself inside.

George looked back down and straight ahead. He took a deep breath. 'I can do this.'

The control board next to the ramp beeped twice, and a light turned green. The hanger was pressurized.

Taking another deep breath, George flipped up the plastic cover over a large red button and pushed it, unsealing the ramp and lowering it to the hangar floor. He picked the ceremonial cane Meyers had given him, an old memento that had been given to the Corporal when he graduated from Military Academy, top of his class. Limping down the ramp, he looked around the hangar. It was rather small, perhaps just twice the width of the shuttle itself, with some room to spare for fuel canisters and other miscellaneous items.

The entryway door hissed, then slid open, as a pair of marines and an officer strode in.

They met in the middle, George limping over to greet them. He didn't smile, just wordlessly saluted with a commanding scowl, like he had seen Meyers do dozens of times with people he either didn't like or thought little of.

The officer returned his salute snappily. "Corporal Meyers, I presume?"

George nodded once, his scowl resolving into a simple, tight-lipped frown. "Correct."

"Follow me, sir." As they left the room, George resisted the urge to look back as the shuttle. He hoped they made it through this. He wanted to tell Erebus how he felt about him.

The officer led them through the ship at a brisk pace, which George was hard pressed to keep up with his limp. The metal flooring clanged hollowly under his feet. He kept his eyes peeled for anything useful though, just like he'd been taught in boot camp.

At the time, he'd thought that noticing subtle details about his enemy would be difficult, but now they seemed to jump out at him. On two separate occasions they passed men doing repairs right out in the open, one hurriedly adjusting the wires inside an electrical panel, and the other standing on a ladder, waist deep inside a ceiling vent.

'The ship isn't full prepared for battle.' George realized, as they passed another man who was just standing around looking confused and doing nothing.

The officer leading them seemed to know this too, as he pointedly ignored everyone they passed, as though pretending they didn't exist would somehow make them invisible to George.

Some surfaces, even high voltage electrical panels, which should have been kept immaculate, were covered in a fine layer of dust, as though they hadn't been properly cleaned in some time.

All of this put together just screamed to George of a ship whose crew was inexperienced, or more likely, a commander who was grossly incompetent.

They reached a lift and began to ascend, rising over a dozen decks before stopping and once again stepping out into a corridor.

George walked a short ways more, then arrived at a door marked "Captain's Quarters".

The way the men escorting him looked at the door with expressions of utter contempt and loathing told the disguised medic all he needed to know about their opinions of the commanding officer.

The officer stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against it loudly.

"Come in."

The officer opened the door and motioned for George to step inside.

The room George found himself in was a bizarre reversal of the Hermes. Instead of being a posh space made to look spartan, it was a spartan place made to look posh.

The cold steel walls were adorned with paintings and prints, the floor was covered in an oriental rug that looked to have been re-colorized and upholstered several times in its life due to wear and tear. An engraved oaken writing desk was stuffed into a corner, the typewriter sitting on it covered in dust as though unused for weeks, and in the middle of it all, barely fitting in the cramped space between the desk and the bed, was a table and pair of gaudy white leather armchairs.

Sitting in the arm chair opposite the door was the enemy commander.

He was tall and blonde, with blue eyes and a chiseled chin that could cut diamond. His hair was combed back in a fashion so meticulous that is must have been managed hair by hair with surgical tweezers. He was sitting leaning forward, elbows resting on the desk, fingers steepled in front of him. His expression was that of practiced patience and curiosity that wasn't genuine in the slightest. A cigarette smoldered in an ash tray on the table, smoke still wisping from the man's lips.

He was wearing the uniform of a Colonial Marine captain, all tidy and starched to hell. A WY pin was clipped prominently to his tie, showing where his true loyalties lay despite the flag of the United States or America being patched on the uniform's shoulder. His name was embroidered on another patch just above his heart: James T. Birknow.

In short, he looked like a Nazi prick.

"Ah, Corporal Meyers, welcome!" The man said, rising to his feet with a smile and stretching his arm out as if to shake his new acquaintance's hand.

George already disliked this man on a number of levels. First and foremost, as a revolutionary, the medic despised the practiced mannerisms and oily smoothness of man in front of him. His red revolutionary heart beat to the tune of spontaneity and originality, and this man grated against it violently. And that wasn't even mentioning his obvious corporate affiliations.

George also despised him as a solider. Just a single glance at this man showed quite clearly that he had never been in combat, nor even to military school. And yet here he was commanding a ship when even his lowliest subordinates were infinitely more suited to it than he was. How dare he wear that uniform; what kind of audacity did it take to put on the markings of an officer, while having never done a lick to earn them?

George found himself loathing the creature which stood before him, in all his manicured and starched aristocratic airs. This was a man to be judged in the harshest light, a man to sneer in the general direction of, a man not worth the time it would take to spit at, a man to look down one's nose at, and to kick in the balls if the opportunity so arose.

A man who, unfortunately, had a whole bunch of really big guns pointed at George's ship.

Instead of doing the many dozens of things to this man that he really deserved, the marine settled for making him look silly and saluted like a real soldier instead of shaking hands.

Birknow stood with his arm extended for several awkward seconds before lowering it, his smile faltering as he did. "Welcome aboard the Costaguana, Corporal Meyers." He said matter-of-factly, sitting back down and gesturing for George to do the same. "Oh, and, you're dismissed. Guard the door." He waved idly at the officer, who promptly closed the door.

George didn't hesitate to limp over to the arm chair and sit down in it. He didn't want to appear suspicious, after all, and these negotiations had to work, at least for a while plus he really was quite exhausted from the trek here. He discreetly glanced down at his watch. Ten minutes to go. He silently hoped that Erebus was doing alright.

* * *

Erebus was, in fact, doing even better than alright.

After George had left, he had waited for about a minute until the hangar was totally quiet except for the hum of electricity and the distant rumble of machines, then he had climbed out of the compartment and exited the craft down the ramp.

Quietly crawling along the underside of the shuttle to conceal himself, the xenomorph looked around to make sure that no one was in the hangar with him.

No one was.

With the area secure, he silently crawled forward until he reached the front of the shuttle, hands and feet adhering tightly to the cold metal, and peered up at the walls and ceiling. There, nestled snuggly in the corner of two walls and the ceiling, was a large metal grate.

Switching his vision to thermal, Erebus saw distortions in the air as a cold draft wafted out of the grate. It was the entrance to a ventilation duct.

Grinning, the xeno switched his vision back to normal and then scuttled across the hangar floor and up the wall to the vent.

Gripping the slats, Erebus pulled experimentally, testing the strength of the metal. While most of the vents on the base had been solid and sturdy, made from the same heavy grey metal as the table he had been strapped to and tormented on, this one was considerably softer, the silvery metal buckling quickly under sustained pressure.

He pulled the vent open, just enough to squeeze through, and squirmed inside. Taking a deep breath, he drew the air over his long forked tongue, then stopped. He smelled something. A human. A male human.

Not George, Erebus would have recognized his familiar happy-sweet scent anywhere, but definitely another male human.

The xenomorph flicked his tongue out, tasting the air again. Male human, and now the salty tang of sweat, with an undercurrent of anxiousness.

He looked around again, making sure he hadn't been spotted.

There was still no one there.

Good, that meant the anxiousness wasn't be caused by him. So then what was causing it?

Erebus began scuttling deeper into the shaft, moving at a sprinter's pace, yet silent as a ghost. Normally he could tell the proximity of prey by the strength of their scent, but in the confines of the vent with nowhere to go, the scent was always the same intensity. This meant that the alien had to carefully peer around each corner before continuing on, so as to not run right into the human and give away the element of surprise.

There were no branches in this duct, just several twists and turns as it wound between bulkheads. This labyrinth-like aspect made traversing it take that much more time, and Erebus began to grow concerned, frequently glancing at his wristwatch. Usually traveling by duct saved time, since they tended to follow a regular pattern and branched out from a few central points.

That was on the base though. The spaceships were totally different.

Erebus internally reprimanded himself for being so thoughtless. He should have realized that things would be different in a different hunting space.

When he was down to 12 minutes, he peered around a corner and saw him.

The male human had his head and torso up inside the vent, and was doing something with an electrical panel mounted into the wall of the shaft.

Erebus watched him work quietly, leering around the corner at him from about six meters away.

He observed that the human was in a hurry, his movements careless and his attention focused solely on the box in front of him. The male twice set down a tool, then reached for it again and had to search around with his hands, not remembering where he had put it, until he was forced to turn away from the panel to find what he was looking for. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings.

The portion of the shaft leading to the human was long and straight, providing no cover, but it was also very dark, perfect for the alien's black skin to blend in with.

With precision and care honed not by skill but by pure instinct, Erebus placed one hand forward, then the other, slowly and carefully crawling down the vent towards the unsuspecting human, his prey too focused on his work to notice.

Erebus knew that this was a stop-gap tactic. Even the most preoccupied humans weren't completely blind, and it was inevitable that he would be noticed. Still, he was proud to have made it a full four meters before being detected.

It was subtle at first. The human reached for a tool again, but this time scrabbled for it longer than usual, taking a full ten seconds, before picking up the largest and heaviest wrench in reach. This time though, he didn't turn away from his work to look for it. In fact his gaze stayed unnaturally locked on the panel in front of him.

The alien's acute vision allowed him to see the hairs standing straight on the back of the man's neck, the flesh puckering up into goosebumps.

He knew something was there, most likely had seen movement out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't appear to know exactly what it was.

The fingers curled around the wrench's handle tightly, knuckles turning white. A new pair of smells became prominent in the airstream: fear and adrenaline.

Erebus tensed his muscles. Odd as it sounded, he actually wanted the human to turn and face him. There were two reasons for this. The first was purely practical: he needed the man's mouth to be facing him so that he could force his hand into it and gag him so he couldn't scream.

The second was more sadistic: he _wanted_ the man to see him. To see him and be afraid. He wanted to do this to everyone wearing that hated Weyland-Yutani patch on their shoulder. To lord his power over them just like they had done to him, to make them suffer, and then kill them.

The man finally moved, spinning around as fast as he could on the ladder he standing on and raising the spanner over the opposite shoulder, ready to strike out at whatever was hiding in the darkness.

Except the thing in the darkness struck first.

Tensing his legs, Erebus jumped at the man with all his strength, covering the distance between the two in just a fraction of a second.

Just as he had predicted, the man opened his mouth to scream, and in response the alien jammed his hand into it, cutting off the scream into a panicked gurgle.

Before his victim had time to swing his makeshift weapon, Erebus grabbed his wrist and snapped it, causing the man to let out a muffled shriek of pain and drop the wrench.

By this time the mechanic was desperately trying to drop back down through the open grate, but it was far too late. Erebus had him now, and he wasn't letting go. The man's legs flailed wildly, knocking over his ladder and sending it crashing to the floor. Eyes wide with panic, he tried to scream around the alien's hand, his muffled cries echoing down the shaft.

With little effort, the xenomorph pulled the man fully into the dark tunnel, dragging him backward several meters, before pinning him to the ground and looming over him.

They stared each other in the face, the man whimpering in fear, and the xenomorph grinning in smug triumph. The he opened his mouth wide, baring long sharp teeth and exposing his inner jaws.

The man began one last scream of pure terror, before the jaws descended and punched through his skull.

So yes, by the time that George thought of him, Erebus was indeed doing alright. Just a few turns afterwards he had found a central junction, and was now making good time toward the stern of the ship, plus he had snack. He swallowed the last of the human's belly-flesh at the bottom of an elevator shaft, licking his fingers to savor the lingering taste of the warm, yummy blood.

He attempted to jump to the cables hanging in the center of the shaft, but the grease prevented him from getting a good grip, and he slid right off and fell flat on his rump. Wiping his hands on a beam to get some of the slippery substance off, Erebus tried again, except with the wall this time. He stuck fast, and quickly scuttled up the shaft to deck 10.

There wasn't a vent to hide in here, which made the xeno nervous, but he didn't really have a choice. Reaching over the ledge, he pulled himself up so that he was standing on it, then worked his fingers in between the doors and pulled them apart a smidge until he could climb through into the hallway beyond. They rolled shut behind him again with a quiet click. From here it was a straight shot to the beam connecting the two ship sections, and a few dozen meters later, Erebus was there.

The beam was long, and he had been told by Barns that the fastest way to get across was on the transit car. He was in a room, which Barns had called a "Transit Terminal", with various boxes and coils of wires stacked in the corners. Scanning the bulkhead in front of him, a solid wall of metal with an airlock built into it, Erebus searched for the green "Call" button. It was relatively easy to find, since "Call" was one of the few written words he knew at this point. He pressed it and then retreated behind a little metal box on wheels to try and hide while the machinery that moved the car whirred to life.

He was silently thankful that it worked, since Barns had warned him that it might not have. Things were often shut down for security purposes on military vessels, he had been told, and if the tram didn't work he'd have to manually release the airlock and run through the tunnel to the rear section.

Erebus hadn't understood most of the context of what he was being told, but he did get the basic concept: mechanical whirring was good, it meant the car was coming.

Then something occurred to him. If the car was meant to transport humans, and it went where the humans went, and all the humans were in the front part of the ship, then why was the tram coming to him from the rear? It seemed rather inefficient… unless there were some humans back there. Probably fixing something like the man he had encountered.

Erebus growled softly. Nothing was ever simple with humans. No matter, he'd deal with them just like he had dealt with the one back in the ducts. And then he'd do his job and blow up the valve thing.

Erebus smiled softly. And then he'd go get George, and they could go back to their ship and be in the bed together some more. That was fun. And relaxing.

The tram arrived and the doors whooshed open with a hiss of compressed air.

The xeno crawled inside and the doors shut behind him, the vehicle whirring into motion once again.

"Ah, good." Birknow said as the steward set the tea set down on the table between him and George.

George, for his part, found this to be just as unmilitaristic as the rest of Birknow's oddities. It was largely porcelain and gold, totally unsuited for martial purposes. And yet here it was on a warship in the outer rim colonies. It almost made him want to stick his tongue out in disgust.

Almost, because from one of the pots wafted a scent that had become much too rare to ever pass up: Coffee.

Feeling ashamed, but unable to help himself, the disguised medic eyed the pot hungrily.

"Feel free to treat yourself, of course." Birknow said, letting a hint of gloating slide into his voice as he picked up a cup of tea and sipped it daintily. "Now, where were we? Exact surrender terms?"

"Captain?" A voice buzzed from the intercom panel above the bed. George noted it had a little video monitor mounted in it. Probably for an interactive video call. Newer technology than was available to the revolution.

Birknow looked at George regretfully. "My apologies, may I…?"

"Of course." George said evenly. He reached for the coffee pot as the enemy commander stood and stalked over to the panel.

"I thought I told you not to interrupt us." Birknow hissed into the intercom, sounding to George very much like a child who's playtime had just been cut short and was on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

"Sir," the man on the other end replied evenly, though his voice contained a steely edge to it that was only slightly tempered with practiced patience, "one of the repair men on the lower decks has gone missing. We found his ladder tipped over on the floor, but he's nowhere nearby."

The medic poured himself a cup of the warm black liquid and, not caring for such luxuries as sugar and cream, which were too rare to find regularly in the outer rim, lifted the cup to his lips and took an experimental sip. The flavor was so strong it made him shiver. Hearty, rich, and bitter, it was superb in every way. Even the aftertaste was exquisite.

"Listen to me, that is not my problem. I don't care how you deal with it, just do what you have to, and don't dare disturb me again, do you understand?" Birknow murmured angrily.

"Yes sir." The voice on the other end muttered. His contempt wasn't even really concealed at this point, but Birknow either didn't care or was too conceited to notice.

George was splitting his attention between the conversation and the coffee. He passively wondered where it was from. It was too rich and well-defined to have been grown in some garden in the outer rim, and probably not even in the civilized colonies closer to Earth. If he had to guess, probably a private plantation in one of the Banana Republics of Central America. Maybe Honduras.

With that settled, Birknow rang off and rejoined George at the table.

The medic set down his coffee to speak. Deciding to buy some time for Erebus, George asked "So, where is this coffee from? It is most exquisite."

"Ah, I'm overjoyed that you find it pleasing. It's actually from a plantation I own down in Honduras."

'I called it!' George though triumphantly.

"It's fine stuff, isn't it?" Birknow continued, "I find it a bit strong myself, but when I need a kick to get myself moving in the morning, it can certainly do that." He laughed at this, and George laughed along, although he was thinking of giving the commander a good kicking himself.

'Later, later.' He consoled his conscience.

"But business is business, and it is truly inescapable, so back to it we must go. Now, Corporal Meyers, about the surrender terms…"

'Shoot, that didn't buy me much time.' George glanced down at his watch. Seven minutes to go. 'C'mon Erebus!'

* * *

Erebus adjusted the leather strap holding the assault rifle to his back. It was actually pretty comfortable, and he liked the way it felt. Smooth, shiny, and flexible. Not unlike his own skin, but slightly different; harder.

The tram ride had been uneventful, and he had left the vehicle behind quickly upon reaching his destination.

The passageways in this section were much darker than in front of the ship, much more tunnel-like and confined, which Erebus liked very much. It reminded him of his hive, the closest thing he could have called to a home, and thusly provided a modicum of comfort to him.

Unfortunately, like his hive, this part of the ship was also very maze-like, containing many twists and turns, with branching paths that sometimes doubled back on themselves. There were no vents to crawl through here either, the ones in the walls being much too small to squeeze into. So he was forced to use the same passages as the humans did.

Speaking of humans, he hadn't found any yet, but he could smell them around. The scent was faint, but definitely recent, so he had to be careful.

Following the few signs he could read, he made his way towards the reactor.

It took him longer than he would have liked, but eventually he did find it. Unfortunately, he also found the humans.

At this point Erebus's comfort level with English was not yet sufficient to where he routinely thought in words and not emotions and pictures, but at that moment he thought something along the lines of "Of course they would be here. Fuckers."

There were three of them, wearing bright yellow suits and standing around the reactor, working on various components.

The reactor's chamber was roughly 30 meters in diameter and generally cylindrical in shape. It was as tall from top to bottom as the ship was, so about 50 meters in total. The chamber was poorly lit except for the actual reactor and the service gangways, which had powerful spotlights shining down on them constantly.

The reactor itself was split into two vaguely funnel-shaped pieces which were roughly 30 meters wide at the base where they met the floor and ceiling of the chamber, and stayed that wide until they got close to meeting in the center of the chamber, at which point they narrowed considerably to just a few meters across. The gantries stretched in a wide circle around this point, around which was arrayed a few control panels. Bolts of electricity flashed between the two halves of the reactor violently, splitting the air with their deafening cracks. A steady rain of water fell from the ceiling, making the whole room look like it was inundated in an eternal lightning storm.

To Erebus, who lacked context for the purpose of any of this, it all just seemed very very weird. Had he possessed eyebrows he would have raised one questioningly.

He shrugged this off with the base explanation that humans and their creations were just strange by nature, and continued on his mission.

This actually looked like a good place to build a nest, when he really thought about it. Steady supply of water, low light, built near a thing that humans valued and so would have to be cautious when attacking. Yes… he could see himself building a very impressive hive here. It'd be different from the more conventional horizontal nest that he instinctively knew how to construct, but he could still do it.

He wondered if George would let him build a hive here when they were done. He doubted it. Humans really wouldn't like hives all that much. They were too full of things that killed them. Eggs, hungry drones, angry warriors. George would probably say no.

Shaking his head to clear it of these thoughts, Erebus focused on the task at hand. He needed to get past the humans without alerting them, and then put his explosive-thing on the valve-thing.

Currently he was in a room filled with flashing lights and more buttons than he could have counted, even if he knew how. Symbols he didn't understand flashed by at a dizzying pace on flickering monitors. A panel of thick glass separated the room from the reactor chamber, and provided a good top-down view of it.

Erebus was fascinated by it all. Everything in this room had to have a purpose, and that was mind-boggling to him. He wanted to learn about everything as fast as he could.

But for now he had a mission to complete.

On the far side of the room, he found a staircase which lead down a deck to an airlock that allowed entry to the reactor chamber.

Not worrying too much about alerting the humans to his presence, as even through the thick walls the deafening cracks of the lightning could still be heard, plus the light levels around here were low enough that he wouldn't be spotted opening the airlock, he entered the chamber and cycled through it. Just as he thought, the three humans in their funny yellow suits failed to notice him, and he scuttled over the railing to crawl upside down on the underside of the catwalks. He padded silently towards the reactor, carefully putting hand over hand and foot over foot. He wasn't afraid of heights, so looking down at the vast chasm below didn't bother him at all. He knew he wouldn't fall as long as he was careful.

The humans were preoccupied with their tasks, plus their vision was impaired by the strange suits that they were wearing, which surrounded their heads and only left a clear bit in front of their face to see through, so it wasn't difficult for Erebus to keep out of sight until he reached the reactor itself. Laying a hand on it, he found it warm and wet to the touch, probably from the water that was falling in a steady downpour from the ceiling. A gentle but noticeable thrumming vibrated out from the metal into his hand.

Transferring his grip from the underside of the catwalk to the reactor shell, Erebus scrawled head first downward into the darkness. His sight adjusted as the light grew lower, maintaining perfect vision even as the illumination dwindled into pure pitch darkness. Or, at least it would be pitch darkness for a human. Erebus could still see just fine.

He reached the base of the reactor in good time, and began circling it, looking for the valve. His watch glowed faintly in the dark. Four minutes left.

Despite the hard limit on his time, Erebus stayed calm and composed. He knew that panicking wouldn't do any good. Best to keep his mind sharp and focused. Losing composure would just make the situation worse.

With three and a half minutes left, he found it. A thick silver pipe with red stripes and symbols on it he couldn't read. What he could read were the words "Emergency Reactor Content Evacuation" written in big red letters next to a large red ball valve.

Erebus grinned in triumph, showing his long crystalline teeth. Reaching for his satchel, he pulled out a large white lump with a sort of squishy texture.

Barns had told him this stuff was called C4, prompting Erebus to ask why it had such a weird name. Barns had rolled his eyes and promised to explain later.

The xeno pressed the malleable white explosive around the valve, bending it so it would stay in place. He then reached into his bag, pulled out a blasting cap, and stuck it into the putty-like substance. Feeling unsure, he put in another, and then one more. He had been given several in case he lost one, and by the end of it he had stuck them all into the squishy explosives.

There was just one more item in the rucksack: the detonator.

As new to this as Erebus was, he wasn't stupid. He had seen the humans back on the base use makeshift explosives to devastating effect, and this was the real thing he was handling here. He didn't dare mess with the detonator before it was time to actually set off his little surprise.

Barns had told him to try and go to the front section of the ship again before detonating the explosives just to be safe, but if he didn't have time just put as much space between him and the bomb as he could.

Snapping the rucksack closed again with the detonator safely inside, Erebus began the long climb back up to the airlock.

* * *

"So then the arrangements are made, and our negotiations completed." Birknow stood up from the table, as if to see the man he thought was Meyers out.

"I believe so, yes." George confirmed, although a quick glance at his watch told him that there was a full two minutes left before the bomb was slated to go off.

"And let me say, for what it's worth, that it was a pleasure having a fellow man of educated status aboard." The commander said, indicating the ceremonial cane that George had left leaning against his armchair."

"And it was a pleasure for me was well." George replied, although secretly he thought that masturbating with sandpaper would have been more pleasurable than conversing with this man.

"Captain?" The voice buzzed from the intercom again. The contempt was long gone, replaced by something akin to panic.

'Saved by the bell.' The medic thought as Birknow politely excused himself and then stormed over to the panel. "What is it now?" He demanded.

"The body of the mechanic has been found in the ventilation duct he was working on."

"The…" For the first time, Birknow seemed at a loss for words. "The body?"

"His head's been caved in and his torso was mutilated. We found the body because blood was dripping out of the duct."

The enemy commander was struck dumb. For several seconds his mouth gaped open and closed like a goldfish. "W-Who did this?" He finally stuttered.

George tried not to smile, but failed miserably. He settled for picking up his coffee and taking a long sip from it to hid his knowing smirk.

"We don't know sir. We can't well lock down the ship and stay prepared for battle at the same time, so it's one or the other."

"W-Well, I'm sure that whoever has done this won't do it again. Everyone else is all together in groups for battle, yes?"

"… No. There are still over a dozen people spread out individually on the ship."

"Well get them with other people dammit! Safety in numbers!" The way he said this was highly reminiscent of someone who thought themselves a genius for stating the obvious.

"Yes sir. I'll dispatch the order immediately."

Something happened then. A shudder ran the length of the craft, gently vibrating the tea set and making the porcelain rattle noticeably.

The lights flickered, went out, then the emergency back-ups came on in their place, dimmer.

Birknow turned white. For a second he was completely still, then he turned and screamed "What the fuck was that?!" into the comms panel.

* * *

Erebus looked down at the detonator in his hand. In hindsight he supposed he should have cleaned his fingers a bit first, since now the it was smeared in grease, saliva, and the blood of his latest meal, but that was fine.

The xeno was sitting behind a crate in the tram terminal, holding the little device in his hand. It was small and black, a bit larger than a pen, with a plastic cover over the button on top

He flipped open the cover, like Barns had instructed, and looked down at his watch. 30 seconds.

He counted down with the timer, and when it reached zero and started flashing, he brought one of this thumbs down on the trigger.

Even through the armor plated bulkheads, he heard the great roar that the blast created, and felt the aftershocks of the explosion go racing up the length of the ship, the floor rattling underneath him.

He grinned, savoring the victory. But it was a hollow victory. Without George by his side, Erebus didn't have anyone to share it with.

Slipping the detonator back into his rucksack, Erebus got to his feet and boarded the tram.

* * *

George was rather enjoying his experience. His coffee was quite good, and having now downed a cup and being halfway through another, his exhaustion had abated for the time being. It was difficult to drink it without snorting with laughter though, as Birknow's pathetic attempts to wrangle back control of the situation were downright comical.

After engaging in a short shouting match with a bridge officer, Birknow had ordered a security team and a group of mechanics to the rear section in order to figure out what the hell was going on. All they could infer from the forward section was that something had gone wrong with the reactor, and that it was no longer functional.

The enemy commander was now watching the progress of his team on the little video screen in his comms panel, impatiently thrumming his fingers against the wall as he did.

Taking one last sip of coffee, George set the cup back down on the saucer and addressed Birknow.

"Captain," He said, getting the man's attention "I'm ready to accept your surrender."

George relished the look of angry confusion on the man's face. He was silent a moment, before a single word slipped through his lips: "Sabotage…"

"Excellent detective work sir." George applauded mockingly. He hated this man, and now that he didn't have to hide his contempt, he let it all spill out into the open. "Now…" He steepled his fingers in a parody of the position he had original found Birknow in "We have business to discuss. Without your reactor being online, you don't have enough electricity to power your vessel's weapons. A simple equation, one even you can understand. The Hermes is poised to use her own weapons to sever the beam connecting the section of your ship. They will begin firing in roughly, oh, about 13 or 14 minutes, unless you surrender now. After that, you will have ten more minutes to surrender. And if you do not, then the Hermes will blow the Costaguana apart piecemeal."

The medic wasn't sure where these words were coming from. Aside from mocking the enemy captain, these were all things he would never have said under normal circumstances. He supposed they were a manifestation of getting into character.

A vein was popping out of Birknow's forehead, and his face had turned the color of a ripe beat. "No." He whispered, rage honing his voice to a sharp point.

Turning back to the intercom he pressed a button and said "Attention all crew, there is a saboteur on board. Remain vigilant and do not let him strike again!"

He turned back to George, smiling in a rather disturbing way. One might have called it unhinged. "There, you see?" A muscle twitched in the man's cheek. "Everything is under control."

George simply sat back and looked at Birknow passively. It didn't matter how much the man blustered, he was well and truly screwed. Even if his repair team was able to reach the reactor and diagnose the problem, a process which would probably take at least a good 10 minutes by itself, they would have to manually override the emergency valve AND restart the reactor, a process that would take at least 30 minutes.

"Captain, we're at the transit station to the aft section." A voice buzzed from the panel. "But the transit car was already moving towards us before we called it. Someone is coming back to our section."

Birknow grinned at George. "Your saboteur?"

George put down his coffee and shrugged. He honestly didn't know.

"Lieutenant, take up positions in front of the trams doors, and when they open shoot whoever is inside!"

The medic grit his teeth. 'I don't know if that's you, but if it is, be careful Erebus!' From his seat, he watched on the monitor as the security team took up positions around the tram terminal. The gaggle of mechanics and technicians hid to the rear, crouching behind whatever they could find to hide behind. Two men with shotguns kneeled in front of the tramway doors, with another two armed with pistols hid behind a pair off columns a little further away. They all leveled their weapons at the door and waited as the tram crept closer.

It was an agonizing wait, until finally there was a low ding, and the tram doors slid open to reveal… nothing. There was no one there.

George breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Birknow, by contrast, seemed pretty pissed. "Get in there and check it out." He said impatiently.

The two shotgunners crept forward, with the pistoliers shadowing a few meters behind. Once inside the tram, the two men leading looked around for a moment, then lowered their weapons. "There's no one here, sir." One of them said, turning away to address the security camera watching them.

At that moment, Erebus dropped down from the ceiling of the tram. He kicked the man who was facing away in the small of his back, sending him flying into the two pistoliers and bowling them all over.

The last man standing tried to raise his shotgun, but his reflexes were much too slow to match a xenomorph.

With a flick of his tail, Erebus severed the unfortunate officer's trigger hand at the wrist, then grabbed him by the top of his head and forced his entire arm through the poor man's midsection, spraying the wall with blood.

This all happened in the space of a few seconds.

Tossing the limp body away like a rag-doll, the xenomorph leapt upon the other gunmen as the unarmed crew ran screaming from the room.

Birknow watched, silent and slack-jawed, as Erebus proceed to dispatch all the other officers.

First to go was the other shotgunner, who was scrambling to his feet and trying to raise his weapon, which was pinned beneath another officer's body. Erebus leapt at him, and with a jumpkick so strong it could shatter bone, sent him flying into a pillar, with which his skull connected with a sickening crack. His body slid to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the column behind him.

A pistolier had by this time stood back up and was in the midst of aiming, but Erebus wasted no time in flashing his tail out and slicing the man's throat.

The final man was still on the floor beneath Erebus, lying on his back and reaching desperately for his pistol, which had slid just out of reach.

The alien looked down at him with a sneer of pure hatred, then raised his taloned foot and brought it down on the officer's face, the man screaming in agony as his head was crushed by the impossibly strong appendage, blood spraying across the cold steel floor.

Erebus stood tall over the bodies of his victims, blood dripping from every part of his body. He raised his head and let out a deafening screech of triumph, so loud that it made the camera lens vibrate, then took off on all fours after the fleeing technical staff.

Birknow took a step back, his mouth still hanging open. He blinked dumbly.

George had averted his eyes from the screen after Erebus had taken off. He didn't like looking at those corpses, their pale, lifeless faces forever frozen into expressions of panic and fear.

Blood didn't bother him. If it did he wouldn't have gone into medicine. But he wasn't a violent person by nature. He'd joined the navy out of revolutionary zeal, not bloodlust. He thought back to when he'd tried to execute Erebus, but couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. 'If I'm too soft to kill, or even to look death in the face, then how can I be a productive member of the armed forces?'

But as pressing as the question was, now was not the time to tackle it. His stomach churned unpleasantly from the violence, but in a power play right out of some epic sci-fi tale, he picked up his coffee and calmly took a loud sip, draining the cup.

The noise attracted Birknow's attention, who turned his head to gaze at George in disbelief.

"It might be wise, captain, to put the ship on lockdown until the xenomorph can be contained."

"Xenomorph." Birknow mouthed the word, in the tone of a man who never thought he'd come within a million miles of one. He blinked again, then seemed to regain lucidity. Pressing the ship-wide intercom switch again, he said "Attention all crew. There is a…" He gulped, seemingly unable to say the word "a… a xenomorph on board. I repeat, there is a xenomorph loose on this ship. All crew are to arm themselves immediately, and the marine detachment is to activate and come meet me at my quarters. The ship is on lockdown until further notice."

Ending the announcement, Birknow began flipping rapidly through the cameras, trying to catch up Erebus as he bounded at breakneck speed through the twisting maze of corridors, leaving a path of dead technicians behind him in a breadcrumb trail that would have been comical if it weren't so gory.

It occurred to George that he could alert Birknow to the fact that there were three armed men right outside at his disposal, and he considered the idea. On one hand, he wanted Erebus to win, and reminding the enemy commander of the extra resources at his disposal might impede his xeno ally. Then again, four men with guns hadn't impeded him very much, so three more probably wouldn't either. On the other hand, gaining Birknow's confidence and 'helping' him strategize might make the man respect him enough to give George some leverage to pull the rug out from under the captain later.

After considering this for a moment, George came to the conclusion that on a ship full of people with guns, three more running around probably wouldn't make much of a difference. With that in mind, he cleared his throat loudly getting Birknow to focus on him again.

"Captain, you have three armed men waiting outside this room, correct? You might be able to utilize them to neutralize the organism."

Birknow blinked. "Oh, uh… yes. Right." He looked up at the door and shouted "Lieutenant Clyde!"

'Idiot.' George thought, 'Even children know not to make a racket when monsters are around.'

The door opened and the lieutenant entered. "Yes sir?"

"Remain on high alert and guard the door."

"With all due respect sir, I think it would be safer to move you to the bridge. It would be easier to command the vessel from there, and the area is more secure, with fewer entrances and exits. It can be sealed shut and quarantined, even against the brute strength of a xenomorph."

'Good man. He's got a pretty smart head on his shoulders. I even kind of hope he survives this. Even if he hates his commanding officer, he still knows his place and the role he plays.'

Birknow was silent for a moment, then said "No. My order stands."

"Yes sir." Clyde said, and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.

The captain stared after him for a moment, then turned to look at George. "How are you so calm?"

Now, the real reason George was calm was because he knew that Erebus could and would tear through every single person on this ship, and wouldn't lay a finger on him. But he couldn't very well tell Birknow that and expect to be considered anything but insane.

So instead he said "Panicking certainly won't improve the situation. So I simply don't."

"Hmph." Birknow turned back to the security cameras.

Now, what George had said wasn't really true, he had certainly panicked quite a lot back on the base when Erebus had first come after him. But the opportunity to look badass in front of the man he so loathed was too good to pass up

'Well, that certainly paid off.' The medic thought, watching the captain flick through the cameras in a semi-panicked fashion. He had make himself look good, AND Birknow hadn't utilized his men in any meaningful way. Win-Win.

George couldn't help but grin, watching his enemy try to catch up to Erebus by following his trail of destruction. Aside from the looming time limit, this was all going quite well. He poured himself a third cup of coffee.

* * *

Erebus leapt over a crate in his path, barreling down the corridor after his quarry.

The young man in the white coat was a nippy one for sure. He was younger than the rest, and had used his energy to stay ahead of the pack, which was how he had survived this long.

Erebus had counted five humans fleeing from the tram terminal. He had killed three, and the fourth, a rather plump older one in overalls, had disappeared in a hallway filled with lockers and boxes.

Figuring that the man was hiding in one of them, Erebus had just continued chasing the other one. He could track down the hiding one later, and show him what happened to humans who thought they were too clever for a xeno.

The one he was chasing rounded a corner and disappeared into a room off the main corridor.

Erebus followed a few seconds behind, landing on the door frame sideways and leaping off of it after his prey to save time and momentum. Inside was a white room that reminded him strongly of the laboratories back on the base.

On the far side, the young man ran up to a thick metal door which lead to another room like this one, but smaller and with a row of windows separating the two. He pressed his thumb against a pad on the wall. It beeped, and the door made a low click.

Erebus's prey hurried pushed it open and tried to close it behind him, but it was too late. The xenomorph was already bounding over the lab counters in a wide arc towards the door. He slammed into it, knocking it back open and sending the man sliding several meters, sprawled on his back.

Erebus tromped up to him slowly, his feet thudding ominously against the floor.

"No… No…" The young man tried to scuttle backwards on his palms, his sweat-soaked hands slipping on the smooth tiles. His glasses were cracked, and his fear-filled eyes refracted crazily through them.

Without warning, the xenomorph pounced, planting his bloody hands on the man's shoulder's and pushing him firmly to the ground. Without giving the man time to scream, he opened his mouth and slammed his pharyngeal jaws through his victim's skull.

In the relative silence that followed, Erebus heard something. Footsteps behind him. The front of his domed head was pointed directly at the ground in front of him, so even though he could see in a semi-sphere all around his dome, no part of it was facing the door.

He turned to look right as the older man in the overalls slammed the door to the room shut on him. The door made another low click.

The alien wasn't one for inaction, so he immediately strode over to the entrance and gave the new obstruction a firm tug on the handle. Nothing happened.

Erebus frowned and tugged harder, pressing down on handle with as much force as he could muster. All he accomplished was bending it.

He took a few steps to his right, over to the windows which separated. the two rooms. Through the one closest to him he could see the older man bending over with his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

The xenomorph silently raised his hand, curling his fingers into a fist. He then punched the transparent divider with all his might.

Any conventional glass and even some metals would have buckled instantly under a blow of such strength. If the same amount of force was applied to a human bone, it would have been rendered into powder.

But this was no ordinary glass. It bent outward a little bit, but otherwise remained unchanged, and immediately bent back inward again, resuming its original position.

The man outside looked up, then took a few steps back as Erebus began laying into the barrier with everything he had, but to no avail.

As he pounded away, the man outside did something that broke the xenomorph: he smiled. He smiled mockingly, confidently. Without fear at all. Just like the scientists back on the base had done.

Erebus was trapped. Again. In confinement, subject to the will of humans who he hated with every fiber of his being and in the very depths of his soul. He tilted his head back and opened his mouths, and a great, primal scream emanated from deep within him. Only someone who knew what to look for would have recognized it as a word: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

"Yeeeeeesssss!" Birknow crowed with triumph as the xenomorph struggled fruitlessly to escape from the room. He moved back to the table and picked up his cup of tea, taking a full gulp of the stuff, probably to add some moisture back into his mouth. "Birknow to marines, the creature has been captured in the biology lab. Proceed there now and secure the area."

George wasn't sure why, but he felt anger building within him. Not for Birknow, he already loathed that man enough, but for this new man, who had shut Erebus in and trapped him. He began memorizing the man's face. Wire rim spectacles, round chubby cheeks, receding hairline, sort of tubby around the waste.

Ultimate victory was still certain at this point, so as soon as Birknow (or someone more command-capable) had officially surrendered to George or the Hermes, he would personally track down the man who had trapped Erebus and send him on a one-way trip through an airlock.

George paused, then looked down at his coffee, which was sitting on the table. This feeling, of devotion to another person, wasn't new per-say; he'd had it with a couple of the other men he'd been in relationships with. But it had never been this strong before. He wasn't sure quite where it came from. Perhaps it was because Erebus was his own creation, in a roundabout way. If he hadn't healed the xenomorph, and told him about the universe beyond, then Erebus as a person wouldn't even exist. Like the xeno himself had said, he's just be another hive drone, if he had even survived.

The medic now had several very conflicting feelings battling inside him. On one hand, he was beginning to see Erebus as almost his own child. On the other, he wanted to have sex with him, so the child metaphor was rather uncomfortable to think about. Erebus, while almost child-like in some ways, was definitely very mature in others. He was highly intelligent, and perfectly aware of the direct short-term and long-term results of his actions.

"What is it doing now?"

George was roused from his thoughts by Birknow, who was staring at the screen with a look of confusion across his face.

Erebus had stopped trying to escape, and was standing with his arms pressed against the glass, head hanging in defeat. His posture was one of resigned misery.

The portly man on the other side of barrier stepped closer, looking through at the xenomorph curiously.

Erebus didn't respond for several seconds. Then he suddenly perked up. Looking the man square in the face with the front of his dome, Erebus then slowly rotated it so his face was pointing at the young man who was lying on his back in a pool of his own blood.

Leaving the barrier behind, the xeno slowly walked over to his victim and looked down at him impassively. Then he picked up the man's hand, and swiftly severed it from the arm with a flick of his tail.

Erebus stared at the severed hand for a moment. Then he curled all the fingers into a fist. All except one: the thumb. He turned his dome to face the door again, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Birknow inhaled sharply in disbelief. "No…"

* * *

"Yes!" Erebus whispered, as the pad he had pressed the thumb against beeped, and the door clicked once more. He pulled the handle, and this time the obstruction swung open easily. He carelessly discarded the hand by tossing it away.

On the other side was the stout man in overalls, looking very much like he regretted coming out of hiding to pull this scheme. He gulped and stumbled backward as a single word escaped his mouth "No…"

"Oh yeah…" Erebus murmured, stalking towards his prey.

The man's eyes bulged out of his head "You talk?!"

The xenomorph leapt forward, pinning the man to the ground as he tried to turn and run. "Yes," he whispered into his victim's ear "I do talk." He trailed his hand in front of the man's face, making him watch as his talons slipped from his fingertips into the open. "But right now, that's the least of your problems."

* * *

George didn't watch what Erebus did to the man for very long. He could pretty well guess what it was. He had seen the xeno slid his claws under the man's skin and then begin to pull gently, peeling it up from the flesh and bone below. The alien was flaying him alive.

The medic had looked away when the screaming started, but that didn't stop the horrible cries of agony from emanating through the speakers. If he had had a more delicate constitution, George might have been sick. He resolved to have a talk with Erebus after the mission was completed, and try to get him to adopt more… conventional methods of killing. He still had the assault rifle strapped to his back after all, having remained untouched since the mission began.

Birknow was still staring intently at the screen though, squinting at it as though confused. "What is… does that thing have an assault rifle on its back?" He asked, almost in disbelief. "And is that- is it wearing ammunition belt?!"

'Oh shit, he finally saw it.' George thought. Out loud he said "I don't know, you tell me. You can see the screen better than I can."

"It sure looks like it's wearing one…" Birknow squinted closer. "Tell me if you think that looks like and ammunition belt and assault rifle."

The screaming still hadn't stopped, and when George looked up there was a very large splotch of red pixels covering a good portion of the screen, which George took to be a pool of blood. He tried not to look at the man on the floor, but it was hard not to. By now most of the skin on his chest and about half of his face had been peeled away. George could see bits of his skull through what was left.

"It looks like it, yes." He said evenly.

"Who the hell dressed it up like that?" The captain asked disbelievingly. "Were they insane?"

This remark almost made George smile. He doubted that Barns was insane, but the thought had probably crossed the other marine's mind while he was kitting out the xeno. The comedy of it almost made him forget that they were still on the clock. George didn't know how much time was left before the Hermes opened fire, but he knew it couldn't be very long.

Suddenly Erebus looked up from his work. He stared at the door to the room for a fraction of a second, then stood up and turned his head to look directly into the camera watching him.

Birknow inhaled sharply and took a step back.

The xenomorph opened his mouths, let out a deafening shriek which rattled the camera lens, and brought his foot down hard on the head of the man he had just been skinning a moment before. There was a wet crack as the skull buckled and shattered, and gore splattered everything around him. Then he jumped a good five meters straight up, stuck to the ceiling, and clambered into a ventilation duct.

A few seconds later, an entire platoon of heavily armed marines burst into the room Erebus had just vacated, and were left with a scene of death and blood.

Looking rather pale, Birknow turned off the monitor and ordered the marines to split into squads and search the ship, then collapsed into his armchair.

George had recovered quickly from the disgust he'd felt at the fate of the man that Erebus had skinned, and picked up his coffee to take another sip.

The enemy commander looked up at him in disbelief. "How can you stomach coffee at a time like this; after seeing gore like that?!"

"I trained as a medic. I've seen worse. Plus we don't really have steady access to this stuff in the outer rim." It occurred to George a couple seconds too late that this didn't really line up with his claim of being a corporal, but thankfully Birknow was too busy wallowing in his own self-pity to take notice of this oversight.

"Captain, I really think it would be prudent to negotiate a surrender. We don't have much time left before the Hermes opens fire. Then a rouge xenomorph will be the least of your worries."

Birknow looked up at him with a grim expression. "I'm not going to surrender to you. Never."

George just looked back down at his coffee. He raised the cup to his lips, and took another sip. Putting the cup back into the saucer, which he was also holding, he started intently at Birknow and, in the most even and measured tone he could manage, said "Then you condemn yourself to death."

"Just myself? You can be sure that I'll be taking you with me."

The medic didn't even bother to conceal his smug smile anymore. The power of having a xenomorph on his side was beginning to go to his head, and he was loving it. "I wouldn't be so sure."

It was at that moment they both heard rattling in the ceiling above them, and looked upwards with vastly different expressions on their faces.

* * *

Erebus had enjoyed torturing the man who had trapped him. It was oddly calming, cathartic even. It was a pity that he hadn't had time to finish the job, but he had really needed to get moving anyway. He didn't have any more time to play.

He wasn't sure how long it had been, but it would only be a few more minutes before the Hermes opened fire. Then George would be in danger, and he couldn't stand that thought. So, obviously, he had to go protect his human. At the very least, they could die in each other's arms.

Erebus paused for a second, considering that thought. As a hive drone, all he had ever been concerned about was keeping himself, his hive-mates, and their queen alive. It seemed rather odd that now he wished to die. He tilted his head a little, lost in thought. Or… maybe he didn't want to die per-say. He knew what he _wanted_; he wanted to have George in his arms, to smell his happy-sweet scent, and to drift off pressed together in warm softness. Whether to sleep or to death wasn't really the point, come to think of it.

So then, what was?

The xeno resumed his progress, still thinking. _Why_ did he want to be so close to George? It was physically satisfying, to be sure, it was warm and cozy, and rather arousing sometimes. But that wasn't entirely it. There was something else…

Maybe the humans had a word to describe it. He'd ask George when they were together again.

He scuttled through the air ducts, looking for a central junction, which he found. Flicking his tongue out to taste the air coming in from every individual shaft leading there, he picked the one that smelled the most strongly of his friend and raced down it, not compromising stealth with his lightning pace.

Eventually reaching a small vent cover, from which George's happy-sweet scent entered the airway, Erebus peered through it.

From this vantage point he was at floor-level, with furniture generally obstructing his view. The vent was much too small to squeeze through, and it appeared to be located under a bed. The xeno's olfactory and hearing abilities were still good though. The room definitely smelled strongly of George, and he could hear his friend's voice clearly through the vent.

"Captain, I really think it would be prudent to negotiate a surrender. We don't have much time left before the Hermes opens fire. Then a rouge xenomorph will be the least of your worries."

A voice that Erebus recognized but could not put a face to then said "I'm not going to surrender to you. Never."

A few moments after there was a strange noise, which the xeno quickly realized was the sound of a liquid being sucked up. Accompanying the noise came a new smell. It was warm, but bitter, unlike the rich salty tang of blood. Erebus cocked his head to the side. Was George _drinking_ something in there. He didn't know much about humans, but it sure seemed an odd time for it.

His friend continued though "Then you condemn yourself to death."

Erebus decided that that was a good cue for him to… introduce himself. He quietly scuttled up the vent until he was perfectly above the room, then began banging on the floor of the duct, trying to goad the bad human into shooting up at him, which would focus his attention there, and allow the alien to sneak up on him from a different direction.

* * *

"GUARDS!" Birknow screamed in panic.

A huge grin had spread over George's face. "Hello Erebus" He whispered.

The three guards burst into the room, guns drawn and ready to fire.

"Xenomorph in the ceiling; shoot it!"

They unloaded their weapons into the ceiling, the two marines holding down the triggers of their assault rifles and chewing through their large magazines just as quickly as the officer with the semi-automatic pistol went through his. When their ammunition was finally exhausted, there were well over a hundred bullet holes in the roof, insulation and fragments of pulverized aluminum drifting to the floor like snowflakes.

No acid blood though.

George smiled even wider. Every round had missed its mark. Erebus apparently hadn't lingered in the vent.

As the marines moved to reload their smoking weapons, they looked around in confusion. The officer looked too, but directly at Birknow and with a rather judgmental frown on his face, as though he thought his superior had just imagined a noise and broke form over nothing. He efficiently ejected the magazine from his pistol and inserted another with a sharp snap, then pointedly turned on his heel to leave.

George couldn't see what happened next behind the back of his armchair, but he had a pretty good idea, because a second later he heard a loud "Oof!" and the officer went flying past him into Birknow, tipping over the latter's armchair and knocking them both to the floor. Given the panicked look on everyone's faces, he assumed that Erebus had just swung down from the doorframe and kicked the officer in the stomach so hard that he had been sent sailing across the room.

That temporarily removed both the officer and Birknow from the equation. There were two marines still standing though, one directly to George's left and another slightly behind the first, both struggling to reload.

The alien wasted no time in kicking the marine nearest to him right in the groin, causing him to instinctively drop his weapon and close his legs together, clutching his crotch while an agonized expression exploded onto his face. Erebus then nonchalantly seized him by the collar and nonchalantly tossed him aside, sending him crashing down onto the table, knocking it over and breaking it in half as George calmly held his teacup and saucer clear of the destruction.

The other marine was still fumbling with his magazine, but would have it in before Erebus could close the distance between the two from a stand-still. So, in a motion so smooth and satisfying that George could have watched it a hundred times over, the alien reached back with his long arms, brought his assault rifle forward, and leveled it at the marine just as the man managed to load his weapon.

Erebus didn't hesitate, and emptied an entire magazine into the guard's chest, shredding his torso into mincemeat. The marine collapsed against a wall and slid to the floor, dead as a doornail.

Coughing, spluttering, and clutching his stomach, the officer was now finally getting back up, fumbling for his pistol, which was still on the floor.

In an act of arrogance that brought back memories of how Erebus had gloated over George's helplessness back on the base, the alien casually leaned his empty rifle against his friend's armchair and walked over to the officer, who had only just managed to retrieve his weapon. As he tried to raise it, the xeno simply grabbed the hand holding the gun, forced it up to position the barrel directly under the man's chin, and squeezed.

Brains and bits of skull decorated the ceiling, and the officer toppled over dead, his gun following him to floor.

Thus was the scene that presented itself to Birknow as he scrambled backwards on the palms of his hands, backing into the wall as he tried to put as many centimeters between himself and the alien as possible. Two of his guards lay dead, another catatonic. The room was soaked in blood, and the floor was covered with spent casings and bits of the ceiling. And in the middle of it all, sat a young man in an officer's uniform, still situated comfortably in the tacky white armchair that he'd been reclining in for the past half-hour.

The young man was smiling, as though satisfied by that which he saw before him. He raised the coffee cup, the last intact piece of the entire porcelain set, to his lips, and downed the last of the bitter brown liquid, before carelessly tossing it aside, letter it shatter on the floor some ways to his right.

Climbing comfortably to his feet, he walked over to stand beside the xenomorph, his posture downright casual.

And then, to the utter shock and disbelief of Birknow, he and the creature held hands, fingers intertwining as they cast an affectionate glace at one another.

"Who _are_ you?" Birknow whispered.

The young man smiled even wider, then stuck out his free hand, as though offering to shake his opponent's. "Private George Canner, Combat Medic, 101st Marine Section. And this-" he indicated the xenomorph "-is Erebus. We will now accept your surrender."

And Erebus raised his head and screeched in deafening victory.

* * *

Upon their return to the Hermes, George and Erebus were greeted like heroes.

Or rather, George was. Everyone still avoided Erebus like the plague. In fact the only time anyone came within three meters of him was when they wanted to get close to George, to shake his hand or give him a hug or something.

Normally the medic would have been pretty pissed by this kind of behavior, as it was exceptionally rude to his friend, but at the moment he kind of understood their hesitation. Erebus may have just played a part in winning them a major victory, capturing an entire corporate frigate, with almost all systems still intact and the crew surrendering without a fight, but that didn't change the fact that he was covered in grime, grease, and gore.

He left a trail of dirty footprints wherever he went, and people naturally shied away from him, as he looked downright feral when he was covered with filth.

George hadn't really appreciated it before, but now he realized that appearing clean and well-kempt was a pretty integral part of looking like a person. Erebus had certainly been more relatable when he was shiny and groomed. More cuddly too.

They returned their equipment Barns, who upon learning that the strange sticky substance that coated the detonator was in fact a mixture of blood, industrial lubricant, and xenomorph saliva, had make a particularly high-pitched squeak and dropped the device on the floor.

This had prompted Meyers to yell at Barns about mistreating military grade-hardware, and he had sent the private off to find a way to clean the detonator.

After that, George had started taking off the uniform to try and give it back to Meyers, but even the corporal was very much aware of how exhausted the poor medic was at this point, and simply told him to keep the uniform for the night, go to his quarters, and get some sleep. Effective immediately.

And so it was, that a half-asleep George, and very much wide-awake Erebus stumbled into their shared room.

The private didn't even bother with anything but closing the door behind them, and promptly staggered over to the bed and collapsed.

"Um… George?" The xenomorph murmured.

"Yeah?"

"I don't… I can't get into your nest; I'm not clean. I'd make it dirty."

George rolled over onto his back and looked at the xenomorph. It was true, from the blood dripping down his chin to the grime he had tracked in on his feet, the xenomorph was in no fit state to go anywhere but the bathtub.

Thankfully, this being a suite on a previously civilian vessel, there was one in the immediate proximity.

"Follow me." George muttered, forcing himself up and leading the xeno into the washroom.

For a warship it was rather luxurious. Actually it was rather luxurious for any washroom in the outer rim. The floor was all crisp white tiles, while the walls were smooth white plaster. Across from them was a sink built into a small row of cabinets. To the left was the bathtub, and to the right was the lavatory.

"What's this?" Erebus asked, looking at the tub.

"It's a bathtub. Here, step into it."

The xenomorph did so, looking around curiously.

Too tired to explain what he was going to do, George turned on water and waited for it to get warm.

Erebus seemed very interested in this, and crouched down on all fours to look at the spigot from the bottom. He made a sort of strange giggly sound as he put him dome under it and washed his head in the running water.

It was at this moment that George pulled up the pin on the tap, and the water came shooting out of the showerhead instead of the faucet.

Erebus squealed in panic and scrambled desperately to get out of the tub, his feet and hands slipping on the smooth wet porcelain. His feet went out from under him and he slammed into the bottom of the tub, still shrieking horribly.

Thinking that maybe the water was too hot and it was burning him, George quickly shut off the showerhead and reached in to try and help Erebus out.

A six-fingered hand grabbed his arm and held it like a vice, Erebus using him as leverage to haul himself out. He collapsed on the tiled floor and curled up into a tight little ball, tail curled around himself with his head tucked between his legs.

In the ensuing silence, George realized that the xenomorph was whimpering.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The human murmured softly, kneeling down next to his friend.

"Why-" Erebus sniffled "Why did you do that to me? What did I do wrong?"

"What? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes I did. Why else would you shoot me with water?" The xeno whined softly, curling up tighter.

"I don't-" Then it clicked in George's head. "Erebus, did they do this to you on the base?"

"They… they sprayed me with water whenever I was angry or misbehaving, to make me stop. It hurt so much, and I couldn't escape."

Pity welled in George's heart. "Oh Erebus…" He laid down on the floor next to him and held his hand comfortingly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. What I was doing to you is what humans call a 'shower'. We spray ourselves with water to clean ourselves. I should have warned you, but I thought you understood how it worked. I didn't mean to hurt you." And with that, the human leaned over and gave the xeno a light kiss right on the top of his dome.

The alien was still for a moment, then he raised his head and looked at George questioningly. His breathing had calmed somewhat, but was still heavy. "What was that? What did you just do?"

"It's called a 'kiss'. Humans do it to show that they really like someone."

"Do you really like me?" Erebus sounded almost incredulous.

"Yes Erebus, I do. I really do. And do you remember when we were in the bed together?"

The xeno nodded slowly.

"I was thinking then…" George closed his eyes and pressed his forehead gently against the xeno's own.

Erebus pressed back, affection passing between them in the intimate touch of each other's flesh.

"And I decided that you were right: I want to mate with you."

Erebus was silent.

George opened his eyes and looked at him curiously.

"Really?" The xeno asked, almost disbelievingly.

"Yes, silly." George reached up and rubbed the top of the xeno's head affectionately. "You're intelligent, handsome, sleek, and graceful. And very kind to the people you like. You're fun to talk to, and you love to learn. You're everything I could ever want in a partner."

The xeno uncoiled as he heard this, muscles relaxing as the praise sank in.

Seeing his opportunity, George half-jokingly sad "Plus you have a really great cock" and reached forward to rub Erebus's groin, running his fingers over the slit he found there.

The xeno purred and pressed his forehead against George's. "Thank you. I like you. You are kind, and nice, and you healed me when you could have let me die. You showed me how much more there is to life. I would be honored to be your partner." He grinned playfully. "And your cock isn't bad either."

George felt something rubbing his crotch, and looked down to find one of Erebus's six fingered hands stroking up and down the bulge in the front of his pants.

"Do humans take their clothes off to wash themselves in the shower?"

"Yeah. Otherwise we- Oof!" George let out a surprised huff as the hand stroking him squeezed his package gently.

'Fuck.' He thought, 'Thus bugger's been out of confinement for a week tops and already he's got a good hand on foreplay. Pun intended…'

"Yeah. We do, because if we didn't then out clothes would get all wet and chafe, plus we wouldn't be able to clean most of our bodies." George continued, struggling to form coherent thoughts as Erebus's squeezes got stronger and more insistent.

"Will you show me how to shower?" Erebus asked, half serious and half sultry.

"Sure, if you'll let go of me for long enough to stand up and get undressed."

The hand promptly retreated from his groin, and Erebus smiled again, playfully bumping his head against George's.

If he had had more energy, George would have put more effort into undressing sensually. As it was, even with the adrenaline rush from the alien's panic attack, and the testosterone from his own arousal, he still barely had enough energy to function. So he simply took off his clothes piece by piece. He kicked off the shoes and socks, removed his dress shirt, and the shirt underneath, showing the xeno his bare chest.

Erebus purred happily, watching this with an unabashedly voyeuristic smirk on his face.

Then George moved on to what he knew his companion was really interested in. He undid his belt and tossed it aside, before lowering his pants and kicking them away.

The xenomorph was staring quite intently at the human's groin now, covered as it was only by his underwear. "Off." He said simply, stated very much like a command.

A small shiver went up George's spine. Authoritarianism. He wasn't crazy for it, but in small doses it really livened things up. Complying, he peeled off his underwear and tossed them into a pile with the rest of his clothes, leaving himself completely naked in front of the xenomorph.

The xeno propped himself up on an elbow, staring at George's genitals intently. He was smiling. A genuine, happy smile too. Not a voyeuristic grin, or a malicious sneer, a rare, genuine expression of contentment, which George had only seen from him a few other times. "I like seeing you naked." Erebus explained, unprompted, "It's when you're the most like me. And you're very handsome too."

"Well my junk is hanging out and yours isn't." George said invitingly, trying to prompt the xenomorph to reveal himself too.

Instead Erebus cocked his head to the side curiously "Junk?"

"Uh, this." George cupped his genitals in his hand. "Something you should know about the English language is that we have a lot of innuendoes. An innuendo is when you say one thing, but mean something else." 'Junk' is an innuendo for 'genitals'.

"That seems inefficient. Why not just call things what they are?"

"Because some people get upset or offended by that."

"People get upset by accurate definitions of what things are?" The xenomorph sounded incredulous.

"You have no idea…" George chuckled. "But that's not my point. What I meant to say is, you can see my genitals, but I can't see yours."

"Oh." The sultry grin returned to the xeno's face. Wordlessly climbing back to his feet, the xenomorph's slit split open and his cock emerged, along with, to George's great surprise, a pair of balls, which dropped down to hang between the xenomorph's legs, along with his flaccid member. And to his even greater surprise, they seemed to swell a little bit, not cartoonishly, but they definitely got a bit bigger and fuller over a few seconds.

"You have…?" George touched his own testicles to illustrate the point.

"Yes. I didn't show them to you earlier because I wasn't sure how much to trust you. It's a very sensitive and vulnerable part of our bodies, which is why we keep them tucked away in our slits. Humans don't seem to have slits though, which makes you very vulnerable to…" He made a sort of upward kick with his leg, making George wince as he remembered the guard on the Costaguana that had found out first hand just how vulnerable his groin was to attack in that manner.

"Is it normal for them to swell up like that?"

"Yes, they're filling up from an internal reservoir. My balls are jet temporary storage for when I'm mating. What you saw me ejaculate in the water reservoir was the full contents of my internal storage. Is that not how humans work?"

The absurdity of the question almost made George laugh. "No, what humans have in their testicles is all they have until they make more, which takes a while. And it's a lot less than you have."

Erebus frowned. "That seems awfully inefficient. How do you make lots of hatchlings then?"

George almost laughed again "We don't. Human, er, hatchlings take about nine months to gestate and grow enough to be born, or hatch I guess. You've been free for about seven days; a week. Human fetuses take 240 days, or 40 weeks to mature fully.

The xeno's mouth actually dropped open. "How have humans survived this long and spread this far if you can't have many hatchlings?!"

"Lots of time. It took us a really long time to get here. We've been working up to it for ten thousand years."

"I don't know how long that is. What is a 'thousand'?"

"This is really interesting, but I'm also really tired and my sex drive is about to give out, can we just move on and get the shower done already?"

"Ok." Erebus motioned at the bathtub. "Are you going to show me?"

"Yeah, here." George climbed in and turned on the water, Erebus watching intently as water cascaded gently off of his body. "See? It doesn't hurt at all."

The xeno took a cautious step forward, then another, until he was standing at the edge of the tub.

George smiled and held out his hand, which Erebus took, and the xeno stepped carefully into the bath.

Given the alien's large size, it was exceptionally good that the bathtub was on a former yacht, so the bath was built almost as large as a hot-tub to accommodate the egos of the rich pricks who used it. Erebus and George fit with room to spare.

They were both efficient cleaners, the alien having learned to bathe quickly and not to linger during his brief life as a hive drone, and the marine having been taught to do so by his drill sergeant. They didn't waste time, although at one point the xeno took a bite out of the soap after George referred to it as a 'cake'. He spent the next five minutes hiccupping bubbles.

And then after they were mostly clean, the foreplay resumed. It was inconspicuous at first. Erebus asked George if he could clean his dorsal lobes; as flexible as the alien was he couldn't quite reach them back there.

The human complied, lathering his hands with soap and applying the suds liberally to the protrusions on the xeno's back.

Then Erebus asked for George to start rubbing up and down the lobes too. The human wasn't quite sure why, but did as he was asked, gripping the hard black flesh gently between his fingers and running his hands along the length of the protrusions, the soap acting like lubricant and making the movement easier.

The alien's breathing became heavier, and the tip of his tail began to twitch slightly.

"Erebus, what exactly am I doing to you?"

"It feels so good… I don't know why, but stroking those always feels good… Someone else has to do it though, because I can't reach…"

"If you think that feels good, you're going to love this…" George let go of one of the lobes and trailed his finger down the alien's back until he reached the base of his tail. There he found the anal slit that he'd seen earlier. Gently sliding his finger along it, he heard the xenomorph sharply intake breath.

"May I?" George asked sincerely. He wasn't sure if the xeno wanted to be touched there, and he needed permission first.

"Yeah…" Erebus breathed, still reveling in the sensations from his dorsal lobes and under his tail.

George proceeded to move his finger along the slit, teasingly applying pressure all along the length of it. When he eventually pressed his fingers inside, he found the interior to be pleasantly warm and tight. Clean too, which was a bit of a relief. Nothing turned George off quite like poor hygiene. The cascading water was a suitable makeshift lubricant, smoothing the passge upwards towards the xeno's rectum.

"Ah!" Erebus sighed, clenching against the finger.

"Is this your first time having something up there?"

"Yes." Erebus squeaked as George's digit wormed in deeper and brushed up against a small lump inside of him.

"Found it…" The medic crooned proudly.

"Found what- Eep!" Erebus squeaked again as George jabbed the little bundle of nerves with the tip of his finger.

"It's your prostate. It feels really good to have it touched or pressed against. Can I put in another finger, or are you uncomfortable?"

"I feel fine. You can add anotherrrr…" The xeno trailed off into a happy sigh as another digit pressed inside him to join the first. "So…" He breathed, "This must be what the other males felt like as I bred their tailholes. No wonder they didn't want me to stop."

"I'm glad it feels good. Some people don't like it, but I do, and I'm happy that you do too." George began to gently thrust his fingers in and out of the xenomorph's anus, jabbing his prostate with each push, pausing every once in a while to stretch the black tailring apart by scissoring his fingers as wide as was comfortable for his friend.

Erebus leaned forward, pressing his hands against the front of the shower while raising his tail. His head hung between his arms; breathing heavy and intercut with cute little moans.

When George asked if he could add a third finger, Erebus said "Stop teasing me, I can't take it. Just put your cock inside and breed me, won't you?"

The medic paused. "Uh… I can't."

Erebus turned his entire head to look at George, peering at him incredulously from under his arm. "You _can't_?"

"Um, yeah. No I can't. It's, uh… you haven't been tested for any sexually transmitted diseases. I'm worried that if I have penetrative sex with you, I might get sick. That means I can't breed you, and you can't do it to me either. Not that I think I'd be able to fit you inside me on my first try anyway." He smiled sheepishly.

Erebus stared at the floor for a moment, then said "I guess that's fair." He smiled lovingly at his partner. "I don't want to make you sick. Is there anything I can do that won't infect you?"

"I don't _know_ if you're infected or anything Erebus. You might not even be able to get a sexual infection for all I know. I'm just playing it safe. I'll see if Anderson had any tests for the viruses lying around, and then we'll know for sure."

"Thanks for the reassurances George." The xeno purred "But still, is there anything we can do that won't infect us?"

"We can still use our hands and fingers all we like, as long as we wash them. And, well… I know I don't have any diseases myself, because I got tested a while back and haven't had sex since then. So I guess I can fuck your mouth, like you wanted me to on the base. Give me a second and I'll finish you by jacking you off and fingering your rear, then you can return the favor."

"Actually…" Erebus slowly pulled off George's fingers, clenching his anus as he did to heighten the experience for himself. "Don't finish me yet, there's something I want to show you after we're out of the shower. I promise it won't make a mess."

"Uh… ok." The medic had no idea what his friend had in mind, but he trusted him.

Erebus got down on all fours facing George and opened his mouths, sticking out the little one level with George's crotch and retracting his teeth out of sight into his gums.

Despite this, George was still hesitant. "Hey Erebus?"

The xeno cocked his head to the side curiously, unable to speak with his mouths in their current position.

"I'm still worried about your teeth. I trust you, and I know you wouldn't hurt me intentionally. Can you promise to be careful?"

Erebus reached up and held George's hand gently, nodding slowly and obviously trying to convey sincerity into motion.

"Thank you…" The marine murmured gratefully. He knelt down on one knee and gave Erebus another kiss on his dome before standing back up and taking his hard cock in his hand. Lining it up with the xeno's exposed maw, he gently pushed it inside the warm, tight little mouth. It was a bit of a squeeze, but not uncomfortable at all. More like a satisfying pressure against his organ at all times. The large amounts of viscous saliva that dripped from the xeno's mouths was a very effective lubricant, and in no time at all George had hilted himself

Erebus slowly retracted his little mouth into his larger one, drawing the marine's cock inside him. He then closed his lips around it, and began to suck. They were little suckles at first, tentative, cautious even. But within a couple of minutes the alien had increased in both speed and intensity, drawing at George's cock firmly and pressing the front of his dome into the fuzz around the human's genitals.

George was in a state of pure bliss. He couldn't tell if it was just an illusion caused by having his dick sucked, but it felt like his cock was being rhythmically squeezed by the alien's little mouth. He could feel the tongue in there too, wriggling around and adding another whole new layer to the experience.

He could hear the xeno's low sucking sounds over the noise of the shower; long, slow, happy sucking. George put his hands on the side of the xeno's head to get better leverage, and then started sliding his cock in and out of Erebus's mouth, and in response the xeno began sucking in time, drawing on the cock as it was being pulled out for maximum effect.

But it wasn't just the pleasure of sex here. There was much more to it. It was intimacy. Intimacy with another person on such a level as George hadn't felt in months. Two people who trusted each other, who confided in each other, who shared emotions too complex and deep for a mere friend to understand. It just so happened in this case that one of those two people was a xenomorph.

The sex was great, yes, but George could just wank off if he needed release. This was true intimacy they were sharing, a moment of passion and kindness in the cruel and chaotic whirl of war. For the first time since shipping out of Steele, George felt truly at ease.

This of course was rather ironic, as a literal monster had its mouthparts around his genitals and showed no sign of letting go, but that was beside the point.

He felt fingers creeping up the inside of his thigh, and a moment later something pressed experimentally against his rear end. Erebus probably wanted to do to him what he had done to the xeno.

George paused for a moment. They didn't really have any proper lubricant, but the water was an acceptable stopgap, and this wasn't the first time he's taken something up his rear, plus the xeno's fingers were pretty slim anyway. "Ok, but go slowly and be gentle."

Erebus did his best to nod around the dick in his mouth, and slowly pushed a finger up inside his friend. The digit explored a bit, before finding the same little bundle of nerves that George had stimulated, and rubbed against it insistently.

The medic moaned. The pleasure from his ass and from the mouth around his cock together was overwhelming, and with a few more spastic thrusts, he came in the xeno's mouth, shooting several ropes of cum into the alien's hungry maw before pulling out and nigh collapsing onto the floor of the tub, the alien's finger slipping free of his rear.

He saw a few drops of his semen escape from the edges of Erebus's mouth, before the xeno swiped them back up with his tongue and then loudly swallowed the load, tilting his head back for maximum effect.

"That was pretty good." George panted, leaning his head back against the wall and smiling. "How many times have you given oral before?"

"Four."

"You learn quick."

The xeno grinned. "Thank you. You taught me how to find the prostate, so you deserve some praise too. And your cum tastes good."

"I'm glad. Sometimes it tastes acrid."

"What is acrid?"

"If something has a strong taste, but not a good taste, it's acrid." George looked at the xeno. He was sitting rather like a dog, with his hind limbs bent while his arms supported his upper body, smiling at his new mate. "Hey Erebus, can you promise me something?"

The alien tilted his head inquisitively "What?"

"Promise me you'll keep asking questions. You're so curious about everything, and that's such a good quality to have. I know too many people who have started rejecting new knowledge as they grew older. Promise me you'll always keep an open mind, and no matter how much you think you know, keep asking questions."

"I promise." Erebus purred, leaning forward to rub his dome affectionately against George's cheek.

The human reached up and gently ran a hand along the biomechanical patterns on the side of his friend's head, reveling in their intricate complexity.

Erebus made that strange giggling sounds again. "That tickles."

George got up on his knees and put his arms around him, pulling Erebus into a close hug.

The xeno immediately returned it, and for a minute they embraced in silence, listening to the water patter against the tops of each other's heads.

"Well," George said, ending the hug and standing up, "That was fun, but I really gotta turn off the water. It doesn't matter how injured or how much of a hero I am, if I waste any more water Meyers'll skin me." He then remembered that that's exactly what Erebus had done to one of his victims and regretted making the joke. Remembering the poor sod's screams put ice in his heart and killed the last remnants of his sexual energy.

They stepped out of the bath, and George took down a bathmat from the towel rack for them to stand on as they dried off.

As George was patting the xeno down with the towel, the alien said "I'm noticing a pattern here: humans like warm fluffy things. Pillows, beds, now towels."

George made an amused huff, welcoming the distraction from his dark thoughts. "Yeah. We're pretty addicted to comfort."

He moved down to the xenomorph's penis and looked up, asking "You want me to dry this? Or do you want it to stay wet?"

"Dry. I've never actually seen or felt it dry, so I'm curious."

George rubbed it down, then continued on until the rest of the xeno was dry and spotless.

Erebus was gently running his fingers up and down his hard shaft, apparently checking out its texture.

"This feels really cool." He said. "Here…" he took hold of George's hand with his own and guided it to his penis. "Feel it."

George did, and he liked what he felt. Aside from the ridges and biomechanical patterns, it was smooth as silk. As a matter of fact, it actually felt a lot like silk. Hard, firm, warm silk, but silk nonetheless. The flesh was smooth and fine, and the human couldn't resist running his fingers along it like he'd seen the xenomorph do earlier.

"Ready to go to bed and see the thing I can do?" Erebus asked.

"Sure." George started walking towards the door, but had only taken a single step when strong arms curled around his and lifted him off the floor, Erebus cradling him against his chest.

"You're never going to stop doing this now, are you?" George asked in mock exasperation.

Erebus giggled "Not unless you tell me to."

The human rested his head against his friend's chest, closing his eyes and smiling. "Tell ya what; as long as we're in a private place with no one else around, you can carry me like this. Deal?"

"Deal." Erebus strode out of the bathroom and over to the bed, setting George down on the right side and bounding over him in a little arc to settle down on the left. He laid down on his back, something which he couldn't do most places because of the protrusions from his back, but which the bed was soft enough to allow. Spreading his legs, he took ahold of the knot at the base of his cock and, in a feat of flexibility that made George's jaw drop, bent over double and slipped the head of his cock into his mouth.

He bypassed his pharyngeal jaw entirely and went straight to the back of his throat, sucking himself off and almost deep-throating his own cock. His hands crept back and began playing with his tailhole as he sucked, pulling it open and teasing the rim before gentling inserting a couple of fingers.

Erebus's sucking got nosier too, although he kept to his word about not making a mess, pausing for a moment to lick his saliva back up if a little escaped from his lips and began rolling down his chin.

Had George possessed more stamina, he would have been hard as a rock and wildly jacking off to this sight. But he was exhausted, and after the intense orgasm he'd had earlier he was pretty mellowed out, so he just watched in amazement as Erebus worked himself.

The xenomorph moaned loudly around the dick in his mouth, then made a muffled screech and thrust his cock as far back into his throat as he could. He convulsed a few times, still sucking desperately on his dick, and then swallowed.

George noticed that the alien's testicles deflated noticeably as this was happening.

"Ahhhh…" Erebus sighed happily as his cock popped free from his mouth, soaked in saliva but otherwise clean. He licked a few more drops of cum off the tip as they emerged, then retracted his empty balls and rapidly softening penis back into his slit and extracted his fingers from his rear

Leaning back against his pillow, the xenomorph sighed once again, and then turned to look at George, grinning. "How'd you like that?"

George was speechless. "That… that was incredible. How many times have you done that?"

"I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, but you gave me the idea to put my fingers in my tailhole. The scientists never stopped me, even when I was alone in my room. I think they were watching me, through the black boxes on the walls with shiny round circles in them, because the part of the black boxes with the circle were always facing me, and the scientists always knew when I did something they didn't like."

"Those are called security cameras, and yes, they were watching you."

"Well, I hope they enjoyed what they saw, maybe jacked off to it a few times, because they aren't alive to enjoy it anymore." The xeno's smile was gone, and he was staring at the ceiling with a neutral expression.

George reached over and put a hand on the side of his dome comfortingly. "You're free now. And I promise you'll never be in a cage ever again."

Erebus glanced at him worriedly. "What if your people put me in a cage?"

"They won't." George assured him

"Are you sure? What if they do?"

"Then I'll get you out, and then we'll run away together, to some far corner of the galaxy where no one will find us."

The xeno was silent. Then he whispered "I think I'd like that. When the war is over, whoever wins, I want to settle down and devote myself to learning and creating." He turned to face George again, "And to being with you."

"With me?"

"Of course with you. Xenomorphs don't mate for life, but I think I want to be with you forever. You've taught and shown me so much. Maybe we'll have sex with other people sometimes, but I want to be your mate for the rest of my life."

George smiled gently, and Erebus returned it. They pushed their foreheads together and hugged, pulling each other close. The human turned over, allowing the xeno to pull him even closer so they could spoon. They snuggled contently as the medic reached down and pulled the covers over them.

"Till death do us part." George murmured, smiling, and Erebus murred in agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hello everyone, and welcome to Chapter Six!

As a disclaimer going forward, just as George will soon get a face-full of xeno cum, you the audience will soon be getting a face-full of my political opinions. Yeeeaaah…

That "Revolution" in the background? It's not going to stay in the background. It's going to become one of the major focuses of the story, and this isn't your usual young-adult anti-dystopia revolution, where the politics are nebulous and intentionally blurred out. No comrades, this is going to get very explicitly political. Real-life political ideologies and economic systems are going to be commented on, and this author is going to be taking a stance on them.

That includes picking favorites.

Now, don't be too alarmed. I am aware of the dangers of this, and I wouldn't do it if I hadn't put a good amount of consideration into it, and didn't think it was a good decision.

**I'm not going to preach at you.** I am not going to say that so-and-so ideology is perfect and great and everyone who doesn't agree is stupid. That said, I'm also not going to say that every ideology is equally flawed and imperfect in the interest of "fairness". It will become fairly obvious by the end which political and economic systems I support.

Now, why am I involving politics in what was a great non-political story? Well, two reasons. First, it adds some external drama and another dimension for characters to develop into.

Secondly, I honestly believe that it's important. This story was born conceptually in 2018, and is currently being written in 2019 and 2020. If you live on Earth during this time period, you may be aware that there is a whole lot of political shi!t going down right now. A certain, rather controversial person is President of the United States, a certain Island is leaving a certain Union, and certain ideologies which were previously on the fringes of the political spectrum are making a roaring comeback all around the globe.

For better or for worse, we live in a highly political era of history.

As I finish the editing process for this chapter, the New Hampshire primaries for the 2020 election are about to get under way. And I'll say it right now: **I'm casting my lot in for Bernie Sanders**. This is an official endorsement, from yours truly. I wouldn't post an endorsement like this unless I thought it was truly important, and I think that right now, it is most definitely important. When the primaries for my state arrive, I'll be voting for him, and I'll vote for him in November. He is, in my humble opinion, the best choice to face the current office-holder, and the one who has the best platform for America's, and indeed the World's future.

In real life, which I try as much as possible to keep separate from my writing persona, I am a very politically active person. I have strong opinions about various ideologies and economic systems. And normally, that stays separate from my writing persona. But now I'm going to break that rule, just this once (until November), and openly endorse a candidate.

Do with that what you will.

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Aside from the above, I also think that it is my duty as an artist to, if not convince others of my beliefs, at least make them question their own.

**Yes, that means you too.**

Even if you're of the political persuasion that agrees with me, I still want you to question your beliefs. Because nothing is more toxic to truth than absolute certainty.

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So, that said, there's also another thing I'll be introducing going forward: kinks. Yes, your favorite human/xenomorph gay couple are going to be getting kinky in bed. And it starts in this very chapter.

Not all their sex will be kinky, and it won't be getting too extreme (Sorry to anyone who was hoping that Erebus was going to vore George. This isn't going to be your dream story), but it will be there. Starting in this chapter, expect some mild kinkiness going forward.

Honestly, I'm not sure which of the above is going to be more controversial, the politics or the kinks. I guess I'll know when the comments start rolling in…

If you're reading this on Archive of Our Own, you've probably already read the tags and gotten a good idea what at least a couple of the kinks are. If you're reading this on Fanfiction… maybe not so much. But I haven't finished tagging all the kinks yet. So you'll both just have to wait and see… Muhahahaha!

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There will be smut in this chapter. It's about 3/5ths of the way through. No anal though, sorry about that. I couldn't find a way to work it into the story yet. I promise it's coming though, just one or two more chapters at the very most!

Anyway, I know how eager you must be to get to the part you actually care about, so I'll not waste your time any longer. On to the story!

*Manual Space*

Sometime as the pair slept, the klaxons once again began to wail, and a voice sounded over the intercom warning of a prisoner escape.

"Should we do something?" Erebus asked.

"Fuck no. I'm too fucking tired. I couldn't move if the ship was going to blow up." George mumbled in response. And he meant it. He _needed_ this rest, and he absolutely could not do anything more to help his comrades. It had been too long since he'd had a proper sleep, and his long ordeal over the past several days had rendered him completely exhausted.

Erebus pulled him closer, pressing around him defensively. "Ok. Whatever it is, I'll be here to protect you."

The marine smiled, and promptly passed out again.

George awoke the next day to the warm, tender embrace that he had come to know and welcome. He snuggled deeper into the arms of his new partner, feeling his naked body press up against Erebus's. He sighed happily, still not fully conscious. The warm, soft skin of the xenomorph pressed against his form gently, lulling him into a soft ease.

But, after all, he was in the military, and they had instilled in George a certain respect for timetables and punctuality. As long as he could feel the rumble of the ship beneath him, he knew in his bones that there was something to be done. There was always something to be done.

With a heavy, if not entirely unhappy sigh, he heaved himself out of Erebus's arms and sat up in the bed. He looked down at his companion, and in a moment of clarity felt… odd.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, George sat there, thinking. 'What the fuck did I do last night? Well that's an easy question dumbass: I had sex with a xenomorph… And I liked it.' He contemplated this. 'Holy shit.'

He felt the bed shift as the monster behind him stirred, and the medic turned around to find Erebus sitting up.

The creature turned his dome to face the medic. "Good morning, my mate."

George smiled bashfully and blushed, looking at the floor momentarily.

Erebus was silent for a moment, then whispered "You're upset. Is it with me? Did I do something wrong when we mated?"

"No! No… I just…" George made a sound that should been a laugh, but came out more like a huff. "It's just so strange. The more I think about it, the stranger it gets. You're a xenomorph, and I'm a human. We've been hunting and killing each other for over a century. We're mortal enemies. And last night we fucked. I had my fingers up your rear, and you sucked me off.

"And it's not just that. When most humans look at you, they see a creature. An animal. Something to fear and run away from and kill. I used to too. But now… I don't. Something has fundamentally changed about the way I perceive you." George reached up and ran a hand along the side of the xenomorph's dome, starting at the front and then sliding it back. "You don't scare me anymore. Your face is so familiar. I can see very small detail, how the exact shape and position of your features sets you apart from others of your kind. And your face is like a person's now. I can see the intelligence and grace that you intentionally put into each and every one of your actions. I can see the thought that goes into every word you say."

George was going to continue, but was cut off by Erebus spreading his arms and enveloping the marine in a firm, loving hug.

"I can see it for you too." The xeno said over George's shoulder. "I always could though. I never had any illusions about the intelligence of your kind as a whole. Even if individual members can be incredibly stupid."

"Thank you."

They held each other for over a minute, listening to their heartbeats.

Erebus pulled away first, his hand trailing down to hold George's. "Hey, do you…" he trailed off and made a show of turning his dome to face somewhere else, as if he was embarrassed.

"Go on." The medic prompted. It was unlike his friend to be so bashful.

"Do you want to have sex again, right now?" The xeno asked hesitantly.

George tried to find a way of saying 'no' which wouldn't sound harsh to his inexperienced partner. "Are you horny again already?"

"Yeah... Actually, never mind, I'm sorry for asking."

"Don't be sorry! It's fine to ask." George encouraged. "Tell me what's the matter."

"I… I…" Erebus actually stuttered, which hadn't happened for over 24 hours.

The human gently rested a hand on the xeno's leg, smiling kindly and innocently. "Erebus, just tell me what's wrong. We're good friends. You can trust me."

"I don't want to be a bother to you!" Erebus blurted. "I don't want to make a nuisance of myself or ask for too much. You've been so good to me, but I know that around humans I can't just raise my tail if I want to be bred or openly court with whoever I want to fuck. And we certainly can't just stop what we're doing at any time so that we can have sex. Not just you, but me and whoever else I am attracted to or is attracted to me. I don't- I just don't _know_ anything. You're all so different from xenomorphs; I barely know how to act." He brought his fist down on the bed, not hard enough to damage anything, but with enough force to punctuate his distress.

George smiled good-naturedly. "Erebus, that's all totally fine. Everyone has to learn how to act at some point in their lives. Humans spend most of their lives trying to adapt to the people around them. But you've got a pair of advantages that most people don't."

Erebus cocked his dome to the side. "What are they?"

"Firstly, you're going through this process in a society that's in the middle of a revolution; so what counts as 'normal behavior' has already gone right out the window. That gives you a lot of breathing room to explore society's boundaries. Secondly, you're a xenomorph which comes with a whole load of perks. People are going to give you even more breathing room, because they'll understand that you're new to human society, and so of course you'll be going through this process. Add to that that you're really intelligent, and you'll adapt in no time. Plus you're big and dangerous and everybody is afraid of you, so even if you _do_ do something wrong, I bet nobody's going to voice their complaint."

George said that last part as a joke, but Erebus didn't seem to find it very funny.

"I don't want to scare good people. I want good people to like me."

"In time, they will. But first they have to get to know you."

"How will that happen?"

"Well, you've got an advantage there too. You're the first xenomorph to help a human instead of helping his hive, the first to display fully sentient behavior, the first to speak meaningfully with a human, the first to be honest-to-goodness friends with a human, not to mention the fact that you carried a wounded soldier to safety, helped rescue a civilian, negotiated our peaceful departure with the rest of the xenomorphs, which probably saved all our lives. And then on top of all that, on the very same day you accompanied a marine to an enemy vessel and proceeded to force it to surrender intact, which not only saved our ship, but struck a blow against the corporate forces and secured a new ship for the revolution."

"People have become famous for a lot less. I suspect that if you're not already, the moment we disembark on Steele you are going to be a media sensation. I have a friend who's a reporter for the Daily Worker, and he'll be the first to tell you that this is the kind of story reporters will kill for. Action, heroism, sensationalism. You'll be on talk shows, and every reporter within a thousand light years is going to want an interview with you. You'll have every opportunity to show how much of a good, respectable person you are. Within three weeks, everyone in the entire galaxy will know your name and your story!"

"Is that a good thing?" Erebus interjected to ask. "Will all that interest in me ever go away? It seems like it'd get exhausting after a while. I want to settle down and live peacefully with you after the war is over."

George paused. "That's… a good point. I honestly don't know."

Now that Erebus had pumped the brakes on his enthusiasm a little, George had to admit that there were a lot of things about this situation that he didn't know. And some of them made him uncomfortable.

"I think you're right to be cautious." The medic said slowly, looking up at his friend. "The revolutionary government will probably want to make a media spectacle out of you. The propaganda value of this would be through the roof. I can already see the posters; you and me holding a billowing red flag, looking up at it hopefully, smiling with revolutionary zeal. Taglines like: 'Our cause is so righteous, even the xenomorphs embrace it'. You'd make a wonderful figurehead."

"Is that a bad thing?" Erebus asked earnestly.

"It's… something. Maybe good, maybe bad. Maybe both."

"And maybe…" The xeno teasingly poked his human in the arm. "… I want to be a figurehead. I want to help you. I want to make Weyland-Yutani hurt."

"That… warrants another conversation, for another time. There's a difference between wanting to help a friend and wanting to hurt an enemy."

"What's the difference?" Erebus insisted "I can help my friends and hurt the enemy by fighting against the corporations."

"Because you don't know what you're fighting _for_ yet!" George protested loudly, silencing the xeno with a stern look. "I won't let you fight with us until you understand what we're fighting for. That's final. I won't let you."

"Why not?" The alien demanded testily.

George sighed. "Do you know what the word 'socialism' means?"

"No."

"How about 'capitalism', 'communism', 'fascism', 'democracy', 'dictatorship', or 'religion'? Do you know what any of those words mean?"

"No."

"That's why not. Because when people don't know what exactly they're fighting for, bad shit happens." Images of death camps, children with assault rifles, and 'witches' being burned at the stake flashed through the medic's mind. He imagined Erebus falling for any of those movements and shivered.

The xeno must have registered George's discomfort, because he suddenly became very quiet. "You're serious about this." He whispered.

"I am. Just…" George looked Erebus square in the face with a dead serious expression. "Just don't take it for granted that me and my comrades are the good guys. Please. Keep your mind open, and keep asking questions."

"I will." Erebus replied solemnly.

He and the human stared at each other for a few seconds, then the xeno began to smile.

"What is it?"

"You didn't use the right grammar." Erebus giggled "You said 'me and my comrades' and not 'my comrades and I'." Mimicking George's voice, he said "You need to work on your grammar."

"So I did." George smiled, glad to have the mood lightened. "And hey, listen. About the other thing you said, about inconveniencing me by asking for sex? Don't worry about it. It'll only inconvenience me if other people hear it. But if you want sex, just ask. There's a good chance I'll say yes. Don't be worried about me rejecting you. If I don't want to have sex at a certain time, then I'll probably want to later. Just be patient."

"Thank you." Erebus said, smiling. He bumped George's forehead fondly, and the human bumped him back.

"And I'm sure you know that there are times you shouldn't ask, like if we're around other people or I'm upset."

"Got it."

George scooted over to Erebus so that they could sit next to each other on the mattress, and they held hands tenderly, basking in the relative shared quiet between them.

It didn't take long before he noticed the xeno looking down towards his genitals, which were still bared to the world since he hadn't yet gotten dressed. Wordlessly, he spread his legs a bit and smiled up at the alien, nodding encouragingly when his companion tentatively reached out with a spindly black hand.

The long black fingers gently caressed George's limp penis, toying with it playfully as it began to swell and harden.

"While we're on the subject of sex, how about we set up some ground rules for that, and for touching each other in general?" George suggested.

"Ok, go ahead." Erebus encouraged, glancing up from his ministrations to look George directly in the face.

"First rule of all sex and touching, no means no, and stop means stop. That goes for me and you. If I don't feel like having sex, then don't try to force me or coerce me. That's no. Stop means that if I tell you to stop what you're doing, then you'll stop immediately. Understand?"

"Yes."

"And that goes in reverse too." George said seriously. He knew that although he was physically weaker, he currently held intellectual power over Erebus. But that wasn't power he wanted to have. "If ever, and I do mean this, ever I ask for sex and you don't want it, then you do _not_ have to give it to me. Don't feel obligated to, or like you're inconveniencing me. If you don't want sex, then that's valid; we don't have it. And if I'm ever doing something to you that makes you uncomfortable or hurts, then tell me to stop."

He leaned in close to Erebus and whispered "Nothing would inconvenience me more than emotionally or physically hurting you. If you don't want sex, tell me. If you don't like what I'm doing, tell me. I'll stop. Don't feel obligated to keep going."

"Ok. Thank you." The xeno said gratefully. "I will."

"Good. Now let's move on to touching. Do you know what the word 'grope' means?"

"No."

"It means to feel someone sexually. The connotation is that it's also unwanted, but the word doesn't necessarily always have that connotation. In this sense, I'm just using it to mean sexually touching someone. When we're alone in our room here, you can grope and touch me as you please, with a few exceptions. If I'm upset or don't want to, then please don't. And while you can certainly touch and caress my genitals, please be very gentle. They're delicate and sensitive. The same goes for my ass. Feel it up all you like, but give me fair warning if you want to put your fingers inside me; I might not be clean, or need lubricant."

"I will, I promise." Erebus said dutifully. "And the same things mostly apply to me too. I like having my genitals touched, but be gentle. There's a reason they're usually inside my slit. You can rub my dorsal lobes too. Feel free to play around under my tail, but tell me if you're going to push inside. Not to discourage you from doing it though, since it does feel_ very_ good." The xeno finished teasingly.

"Don't worry, I'm not discouraged at all." George teased back. He gave Erebus a hug, which the alien immediately returned.

Despite having had his gaze locked on George's face for their entire conversation, Erebus hadn't stopped playing with the marine's cock, and by now it had become fully erect.

George gently took hold of the xeno's arm and pushed it away.

Erebus made a disappointed whine.

"I'm saving it for later, ok? We've got some stuff to do first." George reassured him.

"Stuff like what?" Erebus asked curiously.

"Well," The marine stood up and stretched, before walking over to the dresser and rifling around inside "we still need to get you tested for sexually transmitted diseases, which should be pretty simple. We can go and ask Dr. Anderson for some tests."

"You're trying to keep our sex a secret, right?" Erebus clarified.

"Yeah."

"Wouldn't asking the doctor for some tests make him suspicious?"

George laughed. "No, it would not. Because he is such a nutter that he wouldn't even think about us possibly having sex. I can tell you exactly how the interaction will go. I'll walk up to him, ask him for the tests, and he'll say something to the effect of 'Fascinating. I wonder if they work on xenomorphs. You guys go find out.' And sex won't even occur to him. Plus, who'd guess that we're in a relationship? No one, because when people think of xenomorphs, they don't think sexy thoughts. They think 'Oh shit, time to run away'."

"If you say so…"

"C'mon Erebus, trust me!"

There was rustling behind him, and the marine felt the alien's arms curl around and embrace him. "I'll always trust you, George." The xeno whispered.

George kissed him on the arm, then gently wiggled free and continued to pick out clothes from the dresser.

When he had finished putting on his khakis, George turned around to see Erebus intently looking him up and down.

"What is it?"

"Can I have something to wear?" The xeno asked curiously.

"I don't think I have anything that would fit you. I've only got another pair of khakis and my dress uniform, which are too small, and they wouldn't go over your dorsal lobes or your tail anyway."

"Oh…" Erebus trailed off, sounding rather disappointed.

George, now dressed, retrieved Meyer's cane, as his ankle still smarted when he put weight on it. He then limped over to the intercom and pressed the button to connect him to the bridge. "Bridge crew, this is George Canner."

A couple seconds went by, before Meyer's voice responded "Good morning Private Canner! Feeling better?"

"Yes, comrade corporal."

"What can we do for you up here?"

"Erebus and I are about to leave our quarters. I request that a ship-wide announcement be made to inform the crew that a xenomorph will be out an about with me, and to remind them that he is a friendly."

"Acknowledged. Please stand by."

There was silence for a few seconds, before the ship-wide speakers came on, relaying Meyer's notice. "Attention to all personal. Private George Canner and the xenomorph known as Erebus will now be on deck. You are reminded that the xenomorph is not hostile; I repeat, not hostile, and to refrain from attacking him. As you were."

"Satisfactory?" Meyers asked through the bedroom's intercom.

"Very much, comrade corporal. Thank you."

Meyers rang off, as did George.

"Does that human _ever_ sleep?" Erebus asked.

"No." George answered, totally serious.

The medic then left the room and headed for the elevator, with Erebus in tow.

"So, why do you want to wear anything anyway?" He asked as they walked down the hall. "It's not like you get cold or have anything to hide."

"I want to be like you; like a human. Humans wear clothes."

"Humans wear clothes because they're useful to us. They help regulate body temperature and signify social status at a glance. You can regulate your body temperature with your dorsal lobes, and your social status is already clear just by looking at you." George explained as he trotted down the grand staircase towards the lift.

"Is it? What is my social status?"

"Xenomorph."

"That's not what social status is. Even in xenomorph hives we have a defined social hierarchy; you described it to me while we were still on the base, remember? When we had that really long conversation that started with assault rifles? Xenomorphs have drones, warriors, praetorians, and finally the queen. Calling my social position "xenomorph" is about as accurate as calling yours "human". Obviously you _are_ a human, but that's a description of your species, not your positon in the social hierarchy of said species."

"I think I wanna go talk to Barns. Whenever I make throwaway remarks to him, he doesn't devote an entire ramble to disproving them." George muttered jokingly as they stepped into the lift.

"Then don't make throwaway remarks, silly." Erebus whacked the back of George's leg with the flat of his tail teasingly.

The medic smiled at his companion, then pressed a button on the control panel.

The grates slid shut, and the lift began to descend.

"Hungry?" George asked.

"Yeah. Do you have food?"

"Not on me, but before we go to Dr. Anderson I was thinking that we could stop in the mess hall and get some food."

"What is a 'mess hall'? A hall where you make a mess?"

George laughed. "No, it's a military version of a cafeteria. It's a place where humans in the military go to eat."

"What's the military?"

The lift stopped and the grating slid open again, the pair stepping out and walking down the hall.

George paused. 'Have I really gone this long without explaining that to him?' "The military is a branch of government that deals with fighting the militaries of other governments."

"Like how the warriors in a hive fight for their queen?"

"Yeah, like that. I'm a warrior for the revolutionary government."

Erebus smiled. "That's cute."

"How so?"

"Because to me you're so small and weak, calling yourself a warrior is cute. It'd be like a mouse telling you that he's a warrior."

"I don't think the difference in our strength is _that_ extreme…"

The arms of his companion closed around George as the xenomorph lifted him up into the air with practiced ease, cradling him nonchalantly against his chest. "I think it is." The xeno cooed.

George smiled up at him fondly. "Point taken. Now put me down."

Erebus did so, and they continued their walk.

"So where is the mess hall?"

George pointed at a doorway 20 meters down the hall. "That's it there."

Erebus inhaled deeply. "I smell food."

"I'm not sure what time it is, but the cooks are usually in there making food for the next meal."

"Cooks?"

"Cooks are humans who make food for other humans. They perform the act of cook_ing_, which is the act of preparing food to be eaten. They're also called 'chefs'."

"How does food need to be 'prepared'? Can't you just eat it?"

At this moment, Barns popped out of the mess hall, spotted them, and approached at a jog, smiling widely.

"Hey George! How ya feelin'?"

George and Barns stopped in front of each other, while Erebus kept walking.

"Hungry now; talk later." The xeno muttered.

"I'm feeling better, thanks." The medic said, watching with slight apprehension as Erebus continued toward the mess hall.

"Not much one for conversation, is he?" Barns murmured, lowering his voice so that the alien couldn't hear. "Gave me the ole' cold shoulder."

"I like you, and I like talking to you Barns. But I'm hungry." The xeno called back down the hall. "And I can still hear you just fine." He giggled.

The other marine went white. Looking at George, he grit his teeth. "You're a bit unsettling Erebus, you know that right?" Barns responded.

"Know it and love it." The xeno laughed as he walked into the mess hall.

"Jesus, how long did it take him to learn English again? He's already a pro!"

"About 48 hours."

"Christ! That fucker picks stuff up _quick_! You know, it took just six minutes to teach him how to operate an assault rifle. Four to teach him about explosives."

George shrugged, "That's occurred to me too. My theory is that since xenos mature so rapidly, they have to be very adept at learning, so that by the time they're fully grown they can utilize their body and their surroundings to the best effect."

"Cool, so would that-"

A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air; and neither George nor Barns had to track its origin to figure out where it came from. Without a word, they both took off running towards the mess hall.

They entered, only to find it empty. Of course, at this hour their comrades wouldn't be here; they'd be on duty or exercising Something nagged at George's mind, but he pushed it down, knowing that right now he had something more important to do. The big doors leading to the kitchen were standing open, and the human pair raced through them, only to find a scene which neither had been expecting.

The kitchen was a rather conservatively sized room, with a couple rows of counters in the middle and refrigerators, stoves, and ovens lining the walls.

Given the food assortment, which was a variety of meats and vegetables, it appeared that they had been in the middle of preparing lunch.

Aside from the marines and Erebus, there were three other people in the room. One of them was the ship's cook; Chef Cookie, which was what everyone called him because his real name, Beauchesne, was too hard to pronounce and no-one particularly cared enough to learn how. That, and because he made excellent scones when the time and ingredients could be found.

The other two people were Cookie's assistants, Andrea and Martín. They were all engaged in various desperate acts.

Andrea was desperately spamming the "call" button on the kitchen's intercom panel, trying to summon help, and Martín was desperately searching through a knife drawer, trying to find the biggest one.

Cookie himself had picked up a particularly hefty saucepan, and was desperately swinging it at the intruder in his kitchen.

Standing in the middle of all of this was Erebus, clutching a large, bloody steak in one hand, and deep-throating a baguette with the other.

"Erebus!" George screamed "What the fuck are you doing?!"

The xeno bit off the bread in his mouth and started chewing it, looking down at George nonchalantly "Wah?" He mumbled around his mouthful.

Chef Cookie whacked the alien in the side as hard as he could with the pan, which just bounced off his ribs.

"Hmm?" Erebus looked down at the chef curiously.

"Would everyone please calm down?!" George shouted, "This isn't-"

Martín finally found the knife he was looking for, a large, hefty, and particularly brutal looking meat-cleaver. Raising it over his shoulder, he chucked it at Erebus with all of his not-inconsiderable strength.

The heavy knife sailed through the air, spinning lazily as it flew towards its big, black target.

It indeed found its target, but landed dull-edge first and just bounced off harmlessly, rebounding back and knocking a large pot off its burner, which then tipped over and spilled, chucks of meat, slices of vegetables, and a thick broth pouring out and smothering the countertop and stove.

"Mon Dieu! My stew!" Cookie cried in dismay.

"See Martín," Barns said, "this is why no-one ever accepts your challenges to knife-throwing competitions. We're not afraid of losing, we're afraid of winning and hurting your feelings, but I guess the cat's out of the bag now."

Martín gave Barns a 'What in the galaxy makes you think now is the right time for this?' look.

Cookie dropped his saucepan and rushed to right his overturned stew, setting upright on a clean section of countertop. "You great stupid beast, look what you've done to my kitchen!" He yelled, turning to glare at Erebus.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" George shouted.

The room went silent as all eyes (and a dome) turned to him.

"Thank you. Now would someone please just tell me what's going on in here?"

"Ze creature invaded my kitchen, and proceeded to help itself to my pantry!" Cookie announced in his heavy French accent, glaring sullenly at Erebus.

The xeno stopped chewing. "Oh, was I not supposed to eat this?" He asked, looking down at the bread and meat in his hands.

"No, you were not." George admonished, "You were supposed to ask for food, or preferably just wait for us to catch up to you. And then we would get food together."

Erebus looked at the floor and whimpered "I'm sorry." He tried to hand the meat and saliva-coated baguette back to Cookie, who flinched away and gave the items a look of disgust.

"You… you keep zem." The chef muttered.

"Ok then!" Erebus beamed at him. He then turned and looked at George "See, problem solved."

"Oh no! No no no no! Zis problem ez not solved!" Cookie interjected "My kitchen is a mess! A disaster!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Erebus. "And it ez _your_ fault!"

At this moment, the doors to the kitchen burst open an a squad of heavily armed security personal bust in, panting heavily. "We came as fast…" The commanding officer looked around the room in bewilderment, "… as… we… could… Um, is there a problem here?"

"Yes!" Cookie announced.

"No! No there is not!" George shouted over him.

"Uh… what?" The officer and his squad looked confused.

"There was a problem, but it's been solved now. Everything is fine." Barns assured the officer.

"Everyzing ez _not_ fine…" The chef muttered, crossing his arms.

"Everything _is_ fine." Barns insisted. "Please stand down and return to your posts."

"Um…" The lead officer took another look around the room. "Ok then…" He and the others walked slowly back out of the kitchen, the doors swinging shut behind them.

George stared after them for a second, then said "Now that that's out of the way…" He turned to look at Cookie and his assistants. "Look, I'm sorry that Erebus made a mess. He's new to our world, and he doesn't really get how society works yet. We're teaching him. If you'll just give us some food, then we'll get out of your hair.

Cookie looked between George and Erebus a few times, then sighed and hung his head. "Fine. Andrea! Get a loaf of bread; I don't care what kind, and a pork chop and put them on a platter for ze alien. Martín! Clean up zis mess you 'av made with your stupid knife antics."

The chef then took a ladle and scooped out three bowlfuls of stew. Setting them on the platter as well, he handed it to George. "There. Now get out of my kitchen, or ze next meal I serve you will have reactor waste in it!"

Thanking Cookie graciously, George and Barns retreated from the kitchen, Barns practically dragging Erebus along with them.

When they were back in the mess hall, George set down the platter and turned to Erebus with a stern look on his face. "What was that? What the heck did you do in there?" He demanded.

The xeno whimpered and looked at the ground. "I smelled food, so I followed the scent. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to eat it. I'm sorry."

"… It's ok." George leaned in and gave Erebus a hug. "I should've explained it to you. It's my fault."

"It's mine." Erebus insisted gently. "I should've asked you. Of course getting food would be different in a human spaceship than in a xenomorph hive."

They pulled away from each other, smiling.

Barns looked on with an amused expression. "You two have got something, you know that? It's like you were made for each other." He smiled even wider, and then joked "Why don't you guys just get a room already?"

Under normal circumstances, George would've laughed at this; maybe even half-jokingly flirted with the other person Barns was talking about, just to scope out possible interest but leave some deniability just in case. He wasn't one to turn down a good lay, after all. But these were hardly normal circumstances.

'Oh Barns, if only you knew the half of it.'

But then Erebus opened his mouth "What does it mean to 'get a room'?"

The other marine laughed again, unaware of the significance of this question. "When two people like each other a lot, or are just really horny, they'll go someplace alone, usually to an empty hotel room-" Barns paused momentarily "A hotel is a place where people can rent rooms. Don't ask me what renting is, you'll get me off track. Basically a hotel is a place where people can have a room for a little while. And if two people 'get a room', in the metaphorical sense, that means that they're going someplace private to have sex."

Erebus did not respond to this. Instead he fell uncharacteristically silent.

Barns sat there expectantly, waiting for a reply for several long, uncomfortable seconds. "What's the matter chatterbox? Finally run out of questions?" He asked.

"I guess so." George interjected "He usually just stops talking when he doesn't have anything more to say." Without giving Erebus a chance to jump in and contradict him, George changed the subject and asked "So what was with the prisoner escape thing I heard in bed last night?"

They sat down at the end of one of the long tables that filled the cafeteria, George setting down the platter of food. Erebus tucked in immediately, tearing his way through the bread and meat as his companions continued talking.

"It was Calegary; fucking snake. He escaped."

Erebus froze. Pointedly biting down on the food in his mouth and loudly swallowing, the xeno looked up at Barns with an unreadable expression on his face. "Calegary escaped?"

"Yeah."

The xeno's lips curled into a snarl, showing his long, gleaming teeth. "We should have killed him."

"I felt like telling that to Meyers, but I also felt like not getting blown out an airlock, so I kept my mouth shut."

George put his head in his hands. "How did this happen?"

"He jumped the guard who showed up to give him food and water, and then escaped in the long-range shuttle. He jumped to light-speed before we could stop him."

The medic gently clenched at his hair. This was frustrating, but at least it wasn't catastrophic.

Erebus though seemed completely infuriated. "We should have killed him! You should have let me kill him!"

"Meyers was taking the moral high-road; it was out of our control!" Barns protested.

The xeno crossed his arms. "We should have killed him."

"Yes, Erebus, we know." George muttered. "You've said it enough."

"Hmph."

Barns retrieved his stew from the tray and began to leisurely spoon it into his mouth.

"Are you just done talking then?" Erebus demanded.

"What more is there to say?" Barns mumbled.

"Are we going to chase him?"

"No. We don't even know where he went, and at light-speed we can't track him or even shoot at him if we somehow miraculously caught up; our projectiles would leave the warp-field around our ship and immediately slow back down to a high fraction of the speed of light; possibly crashing back into us in the process."

"… I don't know what any of that means, but we should still-"

"No, we shouldn't." Barns interrupted. "Whatever you think we should do, we shouldn't be doing it. This war is a lot bigger than one man; it isn't worth our time to try and catch him."

"Why not?" The xeno asked indignantly.

George and Barns exchanged looks.

"How do I explain this…" George murmured, turning to face Erebus. "Wars aren't usually personal. We're fighting for a much bigger goal than revenge against one person."

"But Calegary is important to the enemy." Erebus protested.

"But not as important as other people and places. We have to rank our priorities."

Barns looked at Erebus curiously "Why are you fixating so much on Calegary?"

Erebus slowly turned his head to look Barns straight in the face. "He hurt me. He hurt me and my kin. He cut us open and made us do mean, cruel, and painful things over and over again. All we knew was pain and isolation." The xeno's lips twitched, then he smiled. An expression he must have picked up from Birknow, because this was definitely not a normal smile. It wasn't kind, or even voyeuristic. It was demented. It was much too wide to be genuine, all the xenomorph's teeth bared and on full display. A very strange sound emanated from the creature's throat; a twisted, warbling giggle which was just as demented as the smile. "I just want to make him understand." Erebus said in an off-pitch, singsong voice. "To teach him empathy. And when I'm done, he'll never hurt anyone ever again."

Barns looked supremely uncomfortable. Erebus was staring at him very intently, and even though the xeno didn't have any eyes, the marine was unable to hold his gaze. He looked away and coughed awkwardly. "Oh."

George stared down into his soup, trying to think of something to say that would break the ensuing awkward silence.

Thankfully, Erebus seemed to be done talking. He began chowing down on his food again as Barns looked back up at George.

No one said anything. It was hard to think of something _to_ say after a speech like that. How did you follow-up something so unhinged?

The xeno certainly seemed unconcerned with the weight and implications of what he had just said, and continued eating without any apparent concern for it. He stuffed the rest of the meat down his throat, then stuck his inner mouth into the stew and slurped it up in a matter of seconds, before polishing off the remainder of the bread. It had taken him perhaps a minute to consume a meal which George and Barns hadn't even started on yet.

"Can I have more bread?" Erebus asked calmly.

"Uh… sure." George said. He got up and walked back to the kitchen.

Inside, Cookie and his assistants had cleaned up the mess and were once again hard at work making lunch. They all looked up apprehensively when George entered.

"Hey, can we have another loaf? Erebus ate all of the last one."

Cookie stared at him in disbelief. "Ze creature ate an _entire_ loaf? In five minutes?!"

"Yup. And all the meat and stew too. But he just wants more bread."

The chef pursed his lips. "Andrea, please get a stale loaf from yesterday."

His assistant complied, pulling an older hunk of bread from the leftover pantry.

Cookie took it from her and then tossed it to George. "Here. Ze monster may feast on zat."

The medic rolled his eyes, but took what he had been given. Leaving the kitchen again, he walked back over to where Barns and Erebus were sitting in uncomfortable silence.

"Here." George handed the loaf to the xeno. "It's old, but it's what they gave me."

Erebus accepted it unquestioningly and promptly took a huge bite out of it.

There was a painfully loud crunch as the alien's teeth hit the loaf; as if he had bitten into a massive crouton.

George and Barns flinched instinctively, the medic vividly imagining his teeth shattering.

Erebus didn't seem to care though, and just kept crunching away at the hard, stale bread. About a third of the way through, he switched from taking bites to gnawing on it in short bursts like a buzz saw, spraying crumbs everywhere as he did.

The two marines watched in morbid fascination as the xeno proceeded to polish off the rest of the loaf and then lick the flour off his fingers when he was done.

"Wow." Barns said. "Just wow. You're like a garbage disposal."

Erebus looked at him curiously "What's that?"

"It's a place where humans put food that they don't want to eat. It makes the food into… smaller pieces, I guess, and then makes it go away." Barns explained.

The xeno cocked his head "You have so much food you can just waste some? That's amazing! No one must ever be hungry in human society!"

Barns laughed at this.

"Some of us have enough." George explained. "The middle classes and rich do. But out here in the colonies we mostly have to eat whatever is on the table. Most of our food was sent back to the core worlds to feed them before the revolution. But now we have a lot more to ourselves."

"What are the core worlds?"

"The core worlds were the first to be colonized and developed. Humans originated on a planet called Earth, and then we spread outward through the galaxy. Earth is at the approximate center of charted space, with the core worlds surrounding it. Much further out is us, the colonies. We make raw materials, by digging up minerals and farming for food, and then send those resources back to the core worlds to be processed and made into things, some of which they then sell back to us."

"Things like what?"

"Oh, lots of stuff. Spaceships like this one, furniture like this table, fancy jewelry, etc."

"What does it mean to 'wage'?" Erebus asked suddenly, changing the subject.

"… What?"

"I asked you yesterday, but you didn't tell me. I asked a lot of other questions which you didn't answer yesterday."

"Oh." George glanced forlornly at Barns, who returned the look. They could tell they were going to be there for a while.

"Ok, is that _all_ the questions you have for now?" George asked.

Erebus lifted his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded.

They had been sitting at that same table for an hour, George and Barns answering every question that had sprung to the xeno's mind.

"Can I have more bread?" The alien asked. He had eaten two additional loaves while they'd been talking.

Barns gawked "How are you still hungry?"

"I'm not, it just tastes really good."

"You can't have any more bread. I'm already worried about what it might do to you, and that's notwithstanding that we need that food for ourselves. If you're not hungry, you don't need to eat." George said firmly.

"Aww." Erebus sounded disappointed, but quickly brightened up. "Can we go to Dr. Anderson and get the tests now?"

"Tests?" Barns asked.

"Yeah, Erebus and I were going to go get some work done with Dr. Anderson. He is a very unique xenomorph after all. He warrants study." George answered vaguely. He was concerned that the alien wouldn't like the way he was talking about him. It was very similar to the way that Anderson had been speaking just before Erebus had snapped and lashed out.

But Erebus didn't seem bothered at all.

"Sure. I have other duties to attend to anyways, so I guess I'll see ya both later." Barns smiled and left the mess hall, his footsteps receding down the corridor as others replaced them, crewmembers beginning to trickle in for lunch. Not his comrades, but good people who he normally got along with.

There it was again, that unpleasant feeling of their judgment, blocking out the unpleasant nagging in his brain. George could sense their stares boring into him. "Come on Erebus." He murmured, leading the xeno out of the room.

'It wouldn't be so bad if everyone didn't act so antisocial.' The medic thought as a female technician skirted around the pair in a wide arc. 'Why can't they just act polite? Erebus is a person just as much as I am.' George then realized that, while this was true, no one else knew the alien like he did. No one else had been trapped with one for two days, had healed one when it was sick, had taught one how to talk and think like a human. For that matter, no one had ever had sex with a xeno either.

With this new context in mind, George calmed down a bit. 'Of course they're avoiding us.' He reasoned, 'No one else knows Erebus like I do. It'll take some time for them to start thinking of him differently.'

They turned and walked down the hall towards the lift. The trickle of crew towards the mess hall was still slow, so George decided to ask Erebus a question.

"Hey, back in the mess hall, when I was talking about studying you, were you upset? You didn't like it when Anderson talked that way about you yesterday."

"I wasn't upset." Erebus replied. "I knew you were lying to Barns. And even if you weren't, then I still wouldn't be upset. I trust you. If you are curious about me, then I know you'll try to find things out in ways that won't hurt me."

"Ahh… Yeah, about that." George murmured nervously, "Some of the tests might hurt, just a bit."

Erebus stopped dead, turning his dome to face George with an unrecognizable expression on his face. He was baring his teeth, but it wasn't a snarl or a smile. It almost looked like he was gritting them together as if in pain or frustration, but that wasn't quite it either.

"How much will it hurt?" The alien asked quietly.

"Not much! I promise!" The medic said loudly, ignoring the looks he was getting from the people walking past.

"Describe the tests."

"Uh, well, we might need to stick a few needles in you." George scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, that might be problematic too. A lot of human tests use blood, but that's obviously not an option for you."

"So then what will we do?" Erebus asked curiously. He didn't seem terribly fazed about the needles.

"I dunno. I'm just a general practitioner, not a sexologist. We'll ask Anderson."

They continued walking.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you aren't more concerned about the possibility of getting hurt, what with the needles and stuff."

"Humans take these tests so they can have sex and feel good. Obviously they won't hurt very much, or you wouldn't take them." The xeno replied clinically. Lower his voice, he murmured "And it'll be worth it for what it will allow us to do together."

George blushed, looking down at his feet so that no one walking by would notice. But they would be too distracted by Erebus to take notice anyway.

They entered the lift, and George pressed the button for the center deck, where the medical ward was.

"You were ashamed in the hallway. When I talked secretly about sex." Erebus murmured. "Was I not secret enough? Could other humans hear me and know that we had sex?" This thought seemed to cause him considerable distress. "I'm sorry George! I didn't mean to! I shouldn't have been talking about it at all, I-"

"Erebus! Calm down!" The medic shouted over his companion.

The xenomorph quieted. Even though he was a good 30cm taller than the human at least, the way Erebus looked at George in that moment was downright meek.

"You haven't done anything wrong. No one else has figured it out."

Erebus audibly sighed in relief, an action which George found ever-so-slightly unnerving. The humanness of the xenomorph sometimes caught even him off-guard.

"Then…" The xeno straightened back up. "Why were you embarrassed? You were embarrassed this morning too, when I called you my mate. You explained it to me, sort of, but I didn't really understand."

The lift arrived at their deck and the doors slid open.

George and Erebus stepped out, the human looking around to see if anyone was about.

No one was.

"So, Erebus." George scratched his neck again. "I guess I haven't done a good job of explaining this, but sex is a lot more… restricted, in human society than it apparently is in a xenomorph hive. You talk about it like it's normal to fuck every few hours, but humans don't do that. Sex is not usually ok to talk about. And that's not your fault!" He protested, seeing the downcast look on Erebus's face. "You're not the problem. I'm the problem. I was raised in this culture, so naturally whenever I talk about sex with you, especially in a public place, no matter how discreetly, I feel a bit uncomfortable. It'll get better as we do it more and I get to know you better, but as long as we're in public it'll make me feel awkward."

Erebus looked down at George thoughtfully. "Human society is very confusing." He said finally. "You have so much food you can waste it, but some people are still hungry. You work together, but also fight against each other. You like to have sex, but hate talking about it."

George laughed. "Yeah, we're a big giant mess of contradictions." He hugged the xeno, who hugged back. "Thanks for trying to understand."

"I'm having fun. I like learning about humans. I'm studying you just as much as you're studying me."

George smiled again. "Come on big guy, let's get you tested."

They walked into the medical ward proper, and were greeted at the doorway by Dr. Anderson.

"Ah, George and Erebus!" He said warmly, holding his arms out in front of him as if he were going to embrace them. "What can I help you with?"

Irrespective of how he sounded, Anderson still looked pretty beat-up. He had a new pair of glasses, but his black eye was still there and he had a ball of cotton taped over his nose.

"You're sounding very chipper today doctor." George commented. "What's going on?"

"Well, even if Erebus won't let me examine him, I still managed to calculate his approximate median strength by taking into account my body mass, the distance he flung me, and the apparent effort he exerted while doing so. It's not a very accurate measurement, but still, it was a most enjoyable exercise!" He was grinning, despite his apparent injuries.

"It's good my temper helped you." Erebus said, smiling. "I'm sorry that I hurt you yesterday. You frightened me."

Anderson clapped his hands together once. "Well, yes. It's alright. In hindsight I can see where I made my error. It was rather silly of my to ask you, who had been trapped in a laboratory your whole life, to submit to another round of experiments while the only human you knew left your side. It was terribly inconsiderate of me."

George frowned. He knew this game. Anderson wasn't lying, but still, this was sincerity with a purpose. He would still very much want to examine Erebus up-close, and if he thought he could get that via apologizing and making nice, then of course he would.

"We actually came here to talk to you about that." George said. "Erebus and I talked it over, and he's had a change of heart. He'd really like to contribute to science some."

Anderson looked overjoyed. "Oh goodness, a dream come true! Come, follow me!"

He led them into one of the medical suites and instructed Erebus to sit down on the table, which the xenomorph reluctantly did.

George could tell that the alien was having second thoughts. His movements were slow, and his expression was neutral.

"What should we do first?" The doctor asked, sounding very much like a child on Christmas morning with too many presents to open.

"I was personally curious as to whether or not STD tests would work on a xenomorph." George suggested nonchalantly. "It would demonstrate how similar Erebus's specific biology is to our own, and would tell us if he has an traditionally human diseases. If his host was infected, I would like to see if that passed on to him. Plus the tests do most of the chemistry for me, so that's a plus."

"Of course! A simple place to start, which we can build off of. Fascinating!"

"But," George added, "any tests which require a blood sample obviously aren't an option. Could we work around that?"

"Pah. Of course I can work around it. I can make do perfectly well with a sample of spinal fluid and some sperm. We can take care of the spinal fluid here, and then I can fetch a fluid sample bottle for Erebus to donate to in private." The doctor bustled out of the room, leaving George and Erebus alone for a moment.

"You ok?" The human asked quietly.

"Yeah. Just nervous. I don't know what spinal fluid is. It's probably inside of me, right? How is he going to get it out? With a needle?"

"Spinal fluid is the liquid that's in your spine." George reached up and pressed a pair of fingers against the center of the xeno's back, dragging them up the ridge of bones hidden under the skin. "These hard bits here are your spine. There's fluid inside. There's an STD called syphilis that can infect in there, and that's what Anderson and I will be looking for in your tests. Don't worry, I really don't think we'll find anything. I'm just playing it safe."

"Ok, so how is he going to get the fluid out of my spine?"

"With a needle. Don't worry, it won't hurt at all."

Erebus was silent for a moment. "The scientists hurt me with needles. They would poke me with them all over my body, and I couldn't even scream." He began to shiver. "I'm scared George. I know what I said earlier, but…"

"Oh…" The human leaned in and embraced his friend. "I'm sorry. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll just make up some bullshit on the fly to make Anderson think that he can't stick a needle in you."

"No. I want this. It's worth it."

"Just to have sex with me? Erebus, you don't have to-"

"Not just that. I want to learn. Learn about myself and how I work and what my inside parts do. This seems like a good way."

George smiled. "You'd make a great scientist."

The xeno shrugged. "No. I'm just really horny and I want to know why." He grinned at his own joke.

Anderson walked back in with a hypodermic needle. It wasn't very imposing; just a small glass syringe a few centimeters long, paired with a needle which was a few centimeters longer and tapered so much at its tip you could barely see the point.

"My blood melts things and will hurt you." Erebus warned.

Anderson smiled gently. "I am aware. This equipment was made with your kind in mind. In case a facehugger or such ever got on board, we could safely sedate and then kill it with poisons injected with a needle like this. It's acid-resistant, and sharp enough to get through a xenomorph's tough outer skin. The sharpness has the added effect of making it so that you'll barely be able to feel it.

Erebus looked incredulous. "You're not going to poison me, are you?"

"Of course not! Just draw a little fluid from your spine. It won't take a minute."

"I hope not. A minute seems like a very long time to have a needle jabbed in me."

Anderson rolled his eyes. He walked over to stand next to Erebus, looking at the xeno's neck intently.

The alien whined softly, reaching out for George's hand and squeezing it, like a child about to get a flu shot.

"It'll be ok." The medic murmured, resting his free hand on his companion's shoulder.

"Ah, here…" Anderson located the spot he was looking for, and began to sterilize it, wiping it down with an alcohol rub and preparing an acid-resistant bandage.

Erebus had begun to shiver, and George worried that Anderson might not be able to complete his work if the xeno couldn't hold still. So he did the only thing he knew which would make the alien calm down. He closed his eyes and gently pressed their foreheads together, humming softly.

Erebus immediately relaxed, and began purring back.

George couldn't see Anderson like this, but he could hear when the doctor turned around and then stopped moving. There was a long second of silence in which the medic was acutely aware of how the other human must be gawking at him, but he didn't care.

A couple slow, quiet footsteps sounded and then there was another period of silence.

It was broken when Erebus squeaked softly, tensing his muscles but otherwise remaining still.

And then it was over. "Ok, you can open your eyes now." Anderson said calmly.

George did so, and saw the doctor holding up a syringe of transparent liquid as his other hand pressed the bandage against the xenomorph's neck, fixing it in place over the almost microscopic hole that the needle had left.

"I got the spinal fluid sample."

Erebus gently reached up and touched the bandage on his neck. "I could barely feel that." He said, awestruck.

"Modern medicine is a miracle." George laughed.

"Hardly." Anderson responded clinically, "Modern medicine is a science. Science produces better results and standards of living for mankind. The more science we have applied to the universe, the more we can bend it to suit our needs."

Erebus looked at the doctor curiously. "Can you explain that more? It sounds interesting."

"At a later date, perhaps. At the moment I need to get this precious vial into a freezer for preservation, and then I'll fetch you a sample cup." Anderson briskly bustled out of the room with the syringe.

"What does he mean 'sample cup'? What is 'sperm'?" Erebus asked curiously.

George sighed heavily, bowing his head to stare at the floor. He saw a box of latex exam gloves in an alcove in the wall, and pulled a pair out, stuffing them into his pocket. "Sperm is the white stuff in semen. You know, cum, that white stuff that comes out of us when we have sex like we did last night. We're going to need to, uh, extract some of that."

Erebus smiled voyeuristically. "How are you going to do that?"

"I think you can guess. Same as I was doing last night." George smiled too, the though not at all unattractive. "Shh! He's coming back!"

The doctor strode back in, carrying a little orange cup with a white screw-on cap. "Here." He said, handing it to George. "You and Erebus go back to your room and…" He fumbled for words, "fill it up, I suppose. As to how you do that, I leave it up to you."

Erebus got up from the table and Anderson walked them to the elevator, enthusing about all the benefits the xeno would bring to modern science. The alien just smiled bemusedly and walked along, listing to the doctor ramble with patience and interest.

The pair stepped into the lift, Erebus waving goodbye to Anderson as the grates slid shut between them, and the elevator took them back up to the living area.

George and Erebus walked back to their room, the human locking the door behind them after they had entered.

The xeno looked at him curiously "What were those things you took in the laboratory? The white ones you hid in your pocket?"

"Oh, these?" George pulled out the gloves. "They're latex gloves. Doctors use them to examine a patient; they keep our hands clean."

Erebus put two and two together and grinned. "You're going to jack me off, aren't you?"

George smiled.

Erebus smiled back. "Are we going to do it right here?" He asked, his cock sliding out of his slit.

"No, actually. We're going to do it in the bathroom." George led his friend into the small, white tiled room. "Here, hop in the tub and get down on all-fours. It'll be more comfortable if you're on your hands and knees."

"Ok…" Erebus seemed a bit hesitant, but did as he was told. "Are you going to give me a shower again?"

"No, I mean, not until we're done. Your orgasms are so large and explosive that I tend to need to clean up after you."

Erebus giggled. "I can make them smaller if you want."

"You can?"

"Yeah. I don't know why, but I can kinda control how large they are. How much do you want?"

"Just a couple small spurts, enough to fill the cup."

George was fascinated by the xeno's unique biology. His friend seemed to have a large amount of conscious control over his bodily processes, much greater control than a human or most other animals, certainly.

"Ok." Erebus fell silent for a moment as his testicles emerged from his slit and dropped down between his legs. They twitched and then swelled slightly. "I think I have about the right amount. What now?"

"Now," George said dirtily, "I milk you." He pulled on one of the gloves, snapping the latex around his wrist. He'd had a kink for latex gloves as long as he could remember, but he'd gotten used to suppressing it. Medical school would have been torture if he'd gotten a hard-on every time he had to put some on.

As he snapped the glove around his wrist though, he noticed that Erebus's cock bobbed and dribbled pre-cum copiously on the bottom of the tub.

The xeno himself looked confused by this, bending his head down between his arms to look at his penis, as if thinking 'what the heck?' Then he looked back up at George.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, then the human quickly snapped on the other glove as noisily as he could.

The xenocock slapped up against the alien's belly, dribbling even more of the clear, sticky liquid.

Erebus stared at George. George stared at Erebus.

Finally, the human said "Erebus, I think you might have a kink."

If the xeno could have blinked he probably would have. "What's a kink?"

"It's when a usually non-sexual thing turns you on."

"What is 'getting turned on'?"

"Being horny; wanting to have sex. A lot of people get turned on by feet; that's a kink. Personally I don't get it, but still. I think you might have a latex glove kink."

Erebus was silent for a moment. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that this-" George snapped the glove against his wrist again, prompting the alien's cock to spurt more pre-cum "turns you on."

"Is that normal? Is it bad?"

"Yes to the first and no to the second. A lot of people have kinks; the most common one is feet, like I mentioned earlier. It just means that there's one more thing which makes you want to have sex. If you learn how to manage it, you'll be just fine."

"Hmm." Erebus hummed thoughtfully, his once-erect cock now hanging flaccidly between his legs, apparently forgotten about. "Do you have any kinks?"

George considered. Aww hell, he'd already had sex with a xenomorph; might as well tell him the rest. "Yeah. Several, actually. Latex gloves is one for me too."

The alien smiled. "Another thing we have in common." He purred happily.

George chuckled. "Yeah. Now let's get some sperm out of you."

The xeno's cock near instantly hardened again, the light dribble of pre-cum resuming. Resting his front half on his fore-arms so that his rump was elevated, Erebus looked over at George and said "Could you put your fingers in my tailhole? I want to know how the gloves feel inside me."

"Sure, but I'll need to get something for that."

George went to the cabinet under the sink and reached into the very back, pulling out a bottle of water-based lubricant. Walking back over to Erebus, he set the bottle down on the rim of the tub.

"What's that?" The xeno asked curiously.

"Lube. Without water to smooth the passage even just a little bit, I suspect getting my fingers into your anus would be pretty hard, so I'll need this to make your rear slippery enough to get into."

"Ok, go right ahead." Erebus raised his tail invitingly.

Popping the top off the bottle, George squeezed a generous squirt of lubricant onto his left hand, the viscous, transparent substance dripping between his fingers. Moving his hand to Erebus's anal slit, he began to rub his fingers around it, gently smearing the cool gel over the opening.

The xenomorph shuddered at the sensation, before letting out a low hiss of pleasure as the teasing fingers pressed inward, spreading his rear entrance as a gloved finger delved into his depths. The hiss abruptly turned into a moan as George's finger pressed up against his prostate. The xeno's cock spurted precum.

The human added another finger and then began to slowly thrust them in and out of Erebus's tailhole, stretching the ring inside his anal slit gently.

"Oooooh…" The xenomorph groaned loudly, clenching his fists and beginning to move his hips back and forth to meet the fingers as they thrust into him.

George felt the alien clench his rear, dragging himself along his gloved fingers. "Like how they feel?"

"Oh… oh _yes_! I don't know why, but they're so good!"

George reached his other hand over and took a hold of his friend's member, before beginning to stroke it up and down in a milking motion. He could feel the hard ridges circling it, and the outline of the patterns on the bottom of the cock faintly pressed against his fingers. He stopped stroking to squeeze the alien's knot gently.

"Ooh, ooooooh…" The xenomorph was reduced to moans and whimpers, his cock leaking pre in a steady stream now, dribbling all over the orange collection cup.

George resumed milking him, increasing his pace as it became clear that the alien was nearing orgasm. He stopped teasing the xeno's hole and zeroed in on his prostate directly, fingering and squeezing it with aggressive motions of his fingers.

Erebus let out a short, muffled screech, then blew his load, which promptly knocked over the small collection cup.

"Ack!" George pulled his fingers out so he could right the cup, and managed to catch the final spurt squarely inside it. Looking his friend in the face with a serious expression, he said "I thought you said that you could control the volume. That was way more cum than the cup could have held."

"I said 'kinda'." The xeno defended himself, looking back at George with a half-smirk. "Are you still feeling insecure that my loads are bigger than yours?"

"I am not insecure about that." George huffed out. He paused, then smirked back. "Just cock-size." He stuck out his tongue playfully, and Erebus stuck his out in return.

"So did we get enough cum in the cup?"

"Yeah, this should be plenty for the lab." George stood and walked over to the sink. Taking some tissue paper, he wiped the pre and cum off the sides of the container until it was clean, then screwed the cap on. Glancing back at Erebus, he said "Oh, and if Anderson asks about the specifics of how we got it, just stay quiet and let me talk, and then agree with what I say, ok?"

"Ok." Erebus replied dutifully.

George smiled at him, and then very deliberately took off his gloves, making sure to make as much noise with them as possible.

Erebus started after them as the human tossed them into the trash.

"George," he began as the human walked over to him an knelt down again outside the tub, "why do I have a kink for gloves?"

The medic paused for a moment, then sighed and shrugged. "We; humans, don't know, exactly. We're still not entirely sure how people's brains work, and sexology is a rather underappreciated area of research. Right now there's a number of theories about how kinks work, but none of them have been definitely proven. The one I go with because it makes the most sense to me is that kinks are formed from associations we make when we're young. Like, if you're a kid and a doctor examines your feet and them immediately examines your privates afterward, you might grow to associate the two and get a foot-fetish. At least that's my understanding. I can find a book on the subject when we get to Steele, if you'd like."

"Ok, I think I would like that." Erebus smiled.

George smiled back. "Ok, I'll do that. Ready for a bath now?"

"Will the water come out of that thing up there?" Erebus looked up at the showerhead

"Yeah, but it won't hurt."

"Ok. I'm ready."

George turned on the water and waited for it to get warm, before pulling up the pin on the bathtub spigot.

Water sprayed down from the showerhead and pelted the xeno gently. He looked directly up into the stream, not so afraid now, and in fact seemed to revel in it a little bit. He giggled.

George rolled up his sleeves and went to work with the cake of soap, clearing away the evidence of their fun. He removed the lube from under the xeno's tail, then cleaned off his cock and knot, and finished by gently scrubbing the floor of the tub to remove the last dregs of cum that hadn't been washed away.

Erebus watched the suds curiously as they went down the drain. "So, where does the water go?"

George looked at where Erebus was looking. "Well, on a space ship it goes to be cleaned and then recycled. This water coming out of the shower was urine, soap-suds, dishwater, and discarded drinks a few hours ago."

The xeno looked up at the showerhead and then cocked his head to the side. "We use water to clean ourselves, so how do you clean water? By adding more water?"

"No, that's called dilution. We clean water by straining it through a filter to remove larger particles, then we add chemicals to remove smaller contaminants."

"What is a filter? What are chemicals? What are contaminants?"

"Oh boy… Listen, Erebus. I know I told you to keep asking questions, and it's great that you are, but can they wait for a little while? Once we get to Steele I'll have access to a whole bunch of books and stuff that I can use to teach you about all this."

"Ok… what are books?"

George paused. Had he really not explained what those were yet?

Reaching over to turn off the water, he said "Books are those rectangular things that we saw a few of back on the base. You can open them and they have thin, flexible, white sheets inside called paper. Remember the symbols on your watch?"

Erebus nodded.

"There are a lot more of those, and if you put them together in the right order, you can make words on the paper that you can read and interpret meaning from."

To George's surprise, Erebus seemed much more comfortable with this idea than he thought he'd be.

"I think I understand." Erebus said slowly. "There were symbols on the walls of the base, and on the light-cubes. The scientists would look at them and react to them. But I didn't know what they meant. Red was usually bad though. They didn't like red."

George had started toweling Erebus off, but paused when he heard that "Light cubes?"

"You know, those cube-shaped things that have light coming out of one of their sides?"

"Oh, you mean computers!"

Erebus cocked his head. "What do computers do?"

"They… compute. They solve problems, I guess. It's hard to explain without first teaching you about numbers, math, and written language." George shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Erebus reassured him. "But you're going to have to teach me soon. I don't think I'll be able to learn much more without knowing math and reading."

"Yeah, you can't really, honestly. I'll have to get on that. But for now let's go give this stuff to Anderson."

When they returned to the medical ward, they found the good doctor sitting in his office, looking intently at his computer. He looked up as they entered, his eyes focusing on the little orange sample cup filled with white liquid. "You actually got it." He sounded like he was having trouble comprehending that fact. He smiled in a rather bashful way, looking down at his desk and huffing with laughter. "How did you even get it?"

"As it turns out, Erebus already knew how to masturbate." George said, trying to sound nonchalant and unsuspicious. "So I just told him to get some of his sperm into the cup, and then he went into the bathroom and closed the door, and a few minutes later he came out with it."

"That's interesting." Anderson looked up at Erebus, who stared back down at him impassively and silently. "This would heavily imply that xenomorphs have sex for pleasure and not just to reproduce; like other higher organisms. More evidence hinting at true sapience."

"It's almost like we're intelligent." Erebus said flatly.

"Indeed." Anderson smiled in a way that ran the line between genuine and condescending, forcing George to resist the urge to face-palm. The doctor was quite bright, really, but when it came to social graces he often came up short.

But still, not mouthing off to a xenomorph was not a complex idea.

"So doctor, will you be need my help to process the samples?" The medic asked, moving the conversation along to a less contentious point.

"That would be appreciated. You've known the specimen for the longest amount of time of anyone on this vessel, so if we encounter any irregularities you'd be best able to explain them."

"Well, technically Thomas has been around them longer-"

"Who's Thomas?" Anderson demanded, cutting him off.

"He's one of the two survivors we rescued from the base, the other being Dr. Calegary. Meyers had him detained when we first got back on board the Hermes.

Without a word, the doctor got to his feet and walked over to the switchboard in the wall of his office. "Bridge? I'd like to secure the immediate release of a prisoner named Thomas into my custody."

"What?" A voice from the other end crackled back. "Why? What could you possibly need him for?"

"Science!" Anderson announced grandly.

"… That doesn't qualify as a valid-"

The doctor turned off the switchboard. "Come with me." He said to the pair opposite him.

Together they descended into the lower levels of the ship, where the makeshift brig had been set up in a couple of spare supply closets in a dimly lit maintenance corridor. It wasn't nearly as comfortable down here as it was further up; there was no carpet on the grated metal floor, and the walls were solid bulkheads of steel, not wood paneling. Pipes snaked along the walls, vibrating gently with the thrum of pumps and pressurized substances.

Two guards sat in folding chairs crammed to one side of the narrow corridor, one facing toward the approaching group and one facing away as they chatted idly. Upon seeing the xenomorph, the guard facing them fell silent and went a bit pale, his expression becoming tight-lipped. The other turned around to see what his companion was looking at, and let out a yelp when he saw the approaching creature, jumping up from the chair and retreating several paces further down the hall.

"Doctor." The guard who was still sitting promptly stood and saluted.

"Comrade." The word and the warm tone in which it was said seemed alien coming from Anderson's mouth.

"What can we help you with?" The guard asked, glancing up at Erebus nervously.

"I need your prisoner; Thomas."

There was a pause.

"We haven't been authorized to release him from custody, doctor."

"You aren't releasing him from custody, just transferring him into the custody of George and I. We'll make sure he doesn't make any dashes for it."

"What exactly do you need him for?"

This time Anderson approached the issue with more tact. "Thomas has been exposed to the xenomorphs for an extended time frame. It would be wise to screen him for possible impregnation. I suspect the hatchling would be far less friendly than Erebus here."

The guards went white. "Do you really think… We haven't noticed any signs of illness, and it's been longer than it usually takes for hatching to occur."

"In case the existence of Erebus hasn't convinced you of this fact, the xenomorphs encountered on RP404 are of a particularly _un_usual variety. It's much better to be safe than sorry, no?"

One of the guards subtly moved a hand up to clutch at his stomach nervously, and the other turned a shade paler. "Yes, of course. Will we need to accompany you, in case hatching begins to occur during testing?"

"No, I do not think that will be necessary. All I need it the patient."

The guard in the rear turned away to unlock one of the closet doors, disappearing inside for a moment to reappear with a rather bedraggled looking Thomas.

The young scientist immediately brightened up upon seeing George and Erebus. "Hey guys! How's it going?"

"It is going well." Erebus replied, proudly showing off his proper grammar usage. He extended his arms as if to hug the researcher, who hesitated for a moment, before smiling and going for it. Their embrace was short, but touching.

The two guards looked on with expressions of distaste.

"So-" Tom broke off the hug. "-what do you guys need me for? Am I being released?"

"Temporarily, into our custody." Anderson informed him curtly. "I am the ship's chief medical officer, Doctor Anderson. I have reason to believe that you might have been impregnated with a xenomorph embryo."

Thomas went even whiter than the guards had. "Really? I haven't been face-hugged, I swear! I was never even touched by one of those monsters!" He paused, and glanced up at Erebus apologetically.

"Nevertheless, I feel it safer to make sure. You needn't worry; if you current physical condition is any indication, should you in fact be pregnant it's still early enough to safely abort the embryo."

This did not appear to comfort Thomas much, but George put his arm over his shoulder and gently prompted him to start walking down the corridor with them as they departed the brig.

"When should we expect him back?" One of the guard called after them.

"When the testing is finished." Anderson replied vaguely.

"Do you really think I could have been impregnated?" Thomas whimpered as they walked away. "George, I promise, I was never even touched by a xenomorph, let alone face-hugged. Except for Erebus, I guess, but still; physical contact isn't enough to-"

"Tom, calm down." George whispered into his ear once they were out of sight of the guards. "We're not actually concerned about the possibility of you being impregnated. That's just a ploy. We're going to be running some tests on samples of Erebus's DNA, and Anderson wants you there because you've been around the xenomorphs longer than anyone else on this ship, and he thinks you might help to explain any irregularities we find."

Thomas blinked. "Then why did he tell the guards…?"

"Because the bridge wouldn't let him take you otherwise, and he's a little hard-headed."

"Oh." Thomas went silent. Then he looked at Anderson. "I don't want to help you."

The doctor stopped dead. Slowly, he turned around to face the younger scientist, a sneer of dislike already spreading across his face. "What did you say?"

"I don't want to help you do anything related to xenomorphs." Thomas said firmly, crossing his arms. "That's where my old boss fucked up, and he got hundreds of innocent people killed, not to mention the extreme ethics violations that come with all aspects of testing on xenomorphs. I'm not making the same fuck-ups he did. I won't help you."

"Then you can go right back into the cell I just got you out of."

Thomas grimaced, but stayed his course. "Fine by me, though you might have to explain to the guards why I'm back so soon."

Anderson rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine, I guess I'll just walk you up to the lab, and then walk you right back down here."

"All right then, let's go."

George and Erebus stood by impassively. On one hand, the medic agreed with what Tom was saying; experimenting on xenos was dangerous, and was officially illegal for good reason. On the other, the xeno that was actually being tested on was friendly, the only thing being examined was his DNA and bodily fluids, neither of which were dangerous in this case, and all of this was basically essential if he and Erebus ever wanted a relationship that went further than handjobs.

Sighing loudly, George said "Tom, can you come with me a second?"

The younger scientist looked back at him. "You can't seriously be on board with this, George. You saw what they did down there, you know how stupid this is."

"I know, I know. Just humor me, will you?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, but ultimately huffed out an exasperated "Fine."

George beckoned him into and alcove off the main hall, where they could talk in semi-privacy.

"I know, ok, Tom? I am aware of how bad of an idea this kind of thing usually is." George said, before the other man had a chance to open his mouth.

"So why is this time any different?"

"A number of reasons. Erebus isn't going to break out and murder anybody, we're not going to be torturing him, we're not going to try and weaponize him, and he's already consented to it. Come on, man."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "This is personal to you in some way, isn't it? Otherwise you wouldn't be so invested.

It was, that was true, but George had no intention of telling Tom that it was because he wanted to get laid by an alien. So instead he said "I guess that's true, but it's not for me, it's for Erebus. He wants to know how his body works, and this is the best way to teach him. And as his friend, I'm trying to help."

Thomas sighed and leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes in an expression of exasperation. "Just… just tell me one thing. What exactly about Erebus are we going to be testing?"

"I mean, technically Anderson will be doing most of the actual testing, we're just going to be standing there and answering his questions."

"I know! Just answer my question."

"We've told you, just running some experiments on his DNA samples."

"And those samples are?"

Without hesitating, George said. "Spinal fluid and sperm."

Something happened behind Thomas's eyes. George could see the gears turning behind them as he started putting the disparate pieces together. There was a spark of recognition, and then nothing.

Without pause, Thomas continued "Oh. Well… ok, I guess. That seems harmless enough."

"So you'll help then?"

"I'll stand around and answer questions, and maybe help if I'm interested." Tom smiled.

George saw through the smile. He didn't like where this was going. Thomas wasn't malicious in nature, so far as he could tell, but he was curious and very intelligent. Despite his apparent kindness towards both George and Erebus, and his passive acceptance of the fact that they had fooled around back on the base, it was still impossible to know how he would react to knowing that a human and a xenomorph were in a sexual relationship.

Despite himself, he smiled back. "Good. Thanks Tom." He gave the other man a hug, a genuine gesture despite his unease.

They returned to Anderson and Erebus, and together they returned to the lab the way they had come. On their way up in the lift, something occurred to George: 'Shit, the tests we're going to be performing are explicitly STD tests anyhow. Unless Thomas is fucking around in some far corner of the room, he'll know immediately what they are.'

As it turned out, this bit of foresight wasn't far in advance of the revelation, because as soon as the lift reached the medical level and they stepped out, Anderson turned to Thomas and started talking. "So we're going to be performing STD tests today. Do you know how those work?"

Thomas shrugged. "On a purely chemical level, yes. I'm not really aware of the specifics of them though. Why are we doing those first?"

"It's a simple way to test if, at a very basic level, human physiology and xenomorph physiology are compatible. Aside from the blood of course, which is why we're not testing that. Previous tests done in this area have turned out negative; as in the physiologies were too far removed to be comparable. So I'd like to see if Erebus, a more… human xenomorph, might buck that trend."

'Don't tell him whose idea it was, don't tell him whose idea it was…'

"It was actually George's idea to begin with."

'You ass!'

"I'm not surprised, he's a pretty intelligent guy." Thomas smiled at him calmly. "It's a good idea to find a constant like that. Bacterium and viruses wouldn't change unrecognizably from person to person, but the tests will only send back results of the substances being tested are recognizably human, or at least close enough to fool the machine. Otherwise it'll spit the stuff right back out."

"That's the thought process I had." George lied as the lift came to a stop and they all went back to the medical section. "Either it'll be similar enough to fool the machines and the chemical tests, or it won't. If it isn't, then we'll know Erebus is more like the other xenos than he is like us. What do you think about all this, Erebus?" The medic invited him to comment.

"I think it sounds interesting, but I have no idea what it means."

"Here, let me try to explain." George said as they walked into the medical laboratory, which was basically identical in structure to the others they'd been in; rows of sterile tables, machines along the walls, etc. 'Gotta love standardized construction techniques' the medic thought to himself.

George, Thomas and Erebus started to walk over to a tall-ish machine to the right, but Anderson took Tom by the arm and instead steered him over towards the ultra-sound machine sitting in the left corner of the room.

As the younger scientist started blathering out that he wasn't impregnated and that this was pointless, Anderson cut him off. "Look, it's not that I don't believe you, it's that I did tell the guard I'd do this, and I'd look rather ridiculous if we came back and a chest-burster came popping out of you right then and there. I'm sure you understand." The doctor smiled in that condescending way of his, and Thomas shut his mouth and scowled back grumpily.

Anderson sat him down on a stool and instructed Tom to take off his t-shirt so that he could pass the transducer over his belly and chest. Thomas sighed, but did as he was told.

George, being both a medical student and a soldier, knew how to occupy himself and not stare at partially or fully naked people.

Erebus did not. He gazed shamelessly at Thomas's bare torso, which the researcher noticed and was apparently amused by. "C'mon George, look at me, will you? Erebus is certainly enjoying the show." Despite his previous annoyance at Anderson's pushiness, the scientist was smiling humorously now.

"No thank you, comrade." George said nonchalantly, making eye contact and ensuring that his gaze didn't wander south. "I've already seen plenty of naked men over the course of my life, and I don't need another half of one to fill me in. Besides, I'm on duty, and fun is against regulation."

Tom fell silent for a moment as the doctor scanned him with the transducer, everyone staring at the screen as the resulting image flickered into focus. Nothing there but guts and bone.

There was a general sense of relief; a small relief, but relief nonetheless.

"Ok, so, this is how the testing works…" George led Erebus over to the original machine as Thomas put his shirt back on. "You put the tubes in these labeled holes here, and then you push the rack the holes are in into the machine, and it starts up and makes a ton of noise, and analyzes the chemical, bacterial, and viral composition of the samples. Then it puts the results on this screen up here, and we see if you've got any nasty bugs in you."

Erebus looked down at himself. "I don't think I have any insects inside of me. I think my blood would kill them."

Thomas laughed from behind them.

"Bugs is another way to say germs; viruses or bacteria that make people sick."

"Oh, ok. It's another euphemism."

"Exactly."

The other two men came to stand beside them, Anderson brushing George aside so that he could slot the two vials of liquid into the marked holes in the machine.

"Is that what xenomorph sperm looks like?" Thomas asked.

"It is indeed." Anderson replied.

"I thought it'd be black and kinda oily."

"Surprises abound." Anderson pushed some buttons, and the machine whirred to life, making a rather loud grinding noise.

"Is it broken?" Erebus asked, putting his hands over the sides of his dome as if trying to block out the noise.

"No, medical machines just make a lot of noise for no apparent reason." George said, half serious and half joking.

The device made a series of clunking noises, and the whirring got louder, accompanied by a high whining sound.

"It's extracting the samples and running them through the tests now." Anderson explained to them, which wasn't really necessary since George was trained as a doctor and Thomas was a biochemist, but at least it was helpful for Erebus. "Moment of truth…"

George maintained a neutral expression, still remaining hopeful that this would work and he would know if Erebus was safe to mate with.

Thomas sat on one of the adjacent counters and casually crossed his fingers, while singling his ultimate disinvestment with a bored countenance.

Anderson merely stared at the screen intently

Erebus, appearing bored with the entire situation, started turning his head in several directions so as to look around the room and further examine his surroundings.

The whirring suddenly stopped. The machine beeped a few times, and then the screen lit up as letters and numbers started to scrawl across it.

"Samples accepted." It wasn't obvious in the way he said it, but it was clear Anderson was excited due to the way his eyebrows rose a good fourth of an inch. "The machine thinks you're human enough that its tests will work."

George stepped forward so as to read the screen more closely, and despite Thomas's apparent indifference, he could hear the younger researcher's clothes rustling as he leaned forward to see better himself.

"All the tests came back successfully." Anderson murmured, the tiniest hint of awe in his voice. "Apparently, Erebus is the most human-like xenomorph to ever be tested. He's managed to fool the machine into thinking that he is a homo sapiens, or at least that his fluids belong to one. Oh, and I guess he's technically free of STDs too, according to the machine." He actually waved his hand at this, as if brushing away an annoying afterthought. "Still, I'd like to run a few more tests, focusing on saliva and urine, just to be sure."

Together they spent the next hour doing so, and recording all the results. Thomas only helped begrudgingly at first, but eventually became interested enough to aid them without complaint. Most of the tests came back valid, and all of the valid ones were negative. Erebus was worried at first, until George explained that negative tests were a good thing, despite the confusing terminology.

Erebus then proceeded to bitch about how stupid scientific language was compared with regular language for several minutes, until he had exhausted his limited vocabulary.

There also came a part during which George had to escort Erebus into a bathroom and instruct him on how to piss into a cup. Neither he nor the alien were upset or uncomfortable with this, but it occurred to George that the ease and comfort he had shown while accepting this task my raise further suspicions in Thomas's mind.

"All right then." Anderson murmured, scribbling down the last of their results onto a clipboard. "This has been most enlightening." He smiled up at Thomas. "Your services will no longer be required. I'll escort you back down to the brig."

"So now that you're done with me you'll just throw me away?" The younger researcher scowled and crossed his arms again. "Some thanks I get."

Anderson just shrugged and went back to scribbling.

"I'll have a talk with Meyers and see if he'll agree to let you out for a while." George said reassuringly. "You seem like a nice enough guy. And Erebus and I are convinced of your harmlessness; we just need to convince Meyers."

"You're a good-human." Erebus added jovially, as if he was very proud of inventing the term.

"Thanks guys. How long do you think it'll be?"

"I dunno. I'll go speak to Meyers right now if he's on the bridge."

"Ok; please hurry, I hate being locked up. I've already been trapped in a small laboratory for a week, and now I'm stuck in a closet for however long it takes us to get to Steele."

"It'll take us another week. Which is pretty quick, to be fair."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Brilliant."

"Hey, look on the bright side: you're much less likely to get your face murdered by a xenomorph up here than you were down there."

"I dunno…" The younger researcher cast an amused glance at Erebus. "There does appear to be one running free aboard this vessel."

Erebus smiled, extending his arms and engulfing Thomas in an affectionate hug. He whispered something into the scientist's ear, and Thomas actually fully hugged him back this time, responding "Don't worry big guy; it's all forgiven now. You were just working with what you knew at the time."

George hadn't heard what Erebus had said, but he assumed it was nice. Then he began to worry that maybe Erebus was flirting with Thomas. He knew it wasn't a rational worry, since he'd had a conversation about secrecy with the xenomorph before, and the scientist's response didn't make sense if it was flirting, but he was rather concerned with keeping their relationship a secret and it had sparked off a little paranoia within him.

A few minutes later, Erebus, George, and Thomas departed the laboratory and escorted Thomas back down to the brig.

"See you in a bit, ok?" George said, patting him on the back.

"Don't sweat it, it's not as uncomfortable as it looks." The scientist reassured him. "I've got a bed, so that's a step up from my lab."

Erebus and George then rode the lift all the way up to the command deck, and made their way to the bridge to try and get an audience with Meyers to plead their case. When they arrived at the bridge though, the guard on duty informed them that Meyers had left only a short while before to return to his room and turn in for a while.

"Well, that's the end of that for the time being." George sighed as they rode the lift back down to their deck.

"Why? Why not just go ask Meyers right now to let Thomas out?"

"Because he's probably sleeping, and he'd be pretty cranky if we woke him up. This is probably the first time he's gotten any real rest for the better part of a week. And making someone mad isn't the best way to start a conversation in which you ask them to trust your judgment."

"Oh." Erebus was silent for a moment. "So, the tests said I'm not sick, right? No STDs?"

"That's correct."

"Can we mate now?"

George smiled, looking up at his friend affectionately. "Yes, Erebus, we can mate now. When we get back to our room, that's just what we'll do."

Erebus giggled delightedly, scooping the smaller human up into his arms and cradling him against his chest. "Thank you! Thank you so much, George!" He was smiling genuinely again, a phenomena that was becoming more common as time went on. The alien's joy was palpable, and when the lift doors opened he refused to set George down, instead carrying him all the way to their room. Thankfully, no one saw them.

When they got there, George made Erebus set him down. He locked the door, then led the eager xeno into the bathroom, where he apologetically explained: "Normally, humans have sex on our beds, because they're soft and comfy and easy to move around on. But sex is also really messy, and that's just normal sex without xenomorphs that cum literal buckets."

Erebus stuck his tongue out playfully, then sat down on the floor rather like a dog would.

George smiled at this display of uncharacteristic cuteness, and continued: "This wouldn't be a problem, but on board military ships we don't get to wash our sheets very often, so if we mated on the bed then it'd be damp and reek of sex, and that's not really a place we'd want to sleep. So instead we're going to do it in the bathtub."

"With the water on, like before?" Erebus looked up at the showerhead curiously.

"No, this time with the water off. Last time we just used fingers, which was fine for me because your fingers are really skinny, and was fine for you because your rear end is really stretchy and water is kind of slippery, but not really. So if we're going to be putting our cocks inside each other we're going to need lube; the slick wet stuff I put on your tailhole when we were collecting a sperm sample."

"Ok…" Erebus listened patiently.

"And also I need to teach you how to clean yourself out before sex. It was ok in the shower, because we were cleaning ourselves anyway, but if we're going to have proper sex in a bed sometime you need to know how to prepare."

Erebus stared at him blankly. "Um… ok…"

The next 30 minutes were a strange combination of awkwardness, discomfort, and humor, as George instructed Erebus in how to clean out his rear end, and then did it himself to demonstrate.

They hopped in the shower when they were done, rinsing themselves down under the warm water.

Erebus looked down curiously at the douche that George was washing off and cleaning out. "Humans must really like sex; you have so many things to use in relation to it. Lube, douches, sickness tests."

George smiled and huffed in amusement, stepping out of the tub to go put the douche back in the cabinet under the sink, and returning with the bottle of lubricant. Stepping back into the tub with Erebus, he looked up at the alien, who looked back down at him. Butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach. Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to mate with a xenomorph?

"Ready?" George asked hoarsely, his voice faltering.

"Yeah!" Erebus grinned eagerly, which then quickly turned into a frown upon hearing the tone of his friend's voice. "Are you? We don't have to do this if you don't want to." He smiled in a manner that was probably meant to be reassuring.

George considered. He wasn't really sure why he was feeling nervous now, and not when they had been fooling around last night. Somehow this felt more serious. He knew where it would ultimately lead. Before, on the base and then in the shower, he had felt that he could justify his actions by just saying that he was screwing around with the alien, out of mutual curiosity and horniness.

But this, what he was about to do, was much more serious. Here he had put in a prolonged effort into making sure his partner was ready for full-on anal and oral sex, and he was prepared to reciprocate it. The deliberateness of his actions struck him like a club to the face.

All at once, his arousal died. He leaned back against the rear of the tub, tucking his legs up to himself and wrapping his arms around them, staring at the floor silently.

He heard a quiet scuttling, and then Erebus was beside him, also sitting down in a similar position, his genitalia long since tucked back away inside of him. "What's wrong, George?"

"I don't know." The medic's voice cracked. In an instant, tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I don't… I don't know what's wrong with me! My entire squad just died, and I'm here, in a fucking bathtub, about to have sex with one of the things that killed them!"

Erebus was silent for a long while. The alien didn't extend a hand, or turn his dome to look at his companion. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

George heard the words, but didn't interpret their meaning. He was much too far down the rabbit hole now. He felt like nothing. He felt like less than nothing. Maybe it was exhaustion, or adrenaline, or pent up arousal, but somehow he had managed to avoid internalizing the fate of his squad up until this point. The slight nervousness he had felt when faced with the prospect of having sex with a xeno had just been the straw the broke the camel's back.

Every repressed emotion came flooding out in an unstoppable torrent; pain and fear and hatred and loss. So much loss. He hadn't known his comrades for very long; just a few months. But it had been all the time he had needed to grow fond of them. To laugh at Frederick's morbid comedy routines, about Waffen-SS guys and a Red Army tank battalion and the desperate battle they fought in the ruins of Pomerania to acquire a semi-ripe banana. To be aroused by Benny's constant teasing of him, how he'd go to pains to find excuses to be naked around George, to say "I'm a little busy today, but maybe tomorrow…" every single time he caught the medic looking. How Maria would fake smoking a cigarette and, in an exaggerated Italian accent, complain about "the state of cheese today".

Gone. All gone forever. He'd never talk to them again.

George had trained with them before their deployment. He'd been giddy to be a part of the club, to have an important job with important people that could win the war. His comrades had teased him and Barns about being green, but had never been mean about it. They had been so helpful; "Clean your weapon like this" or "Prepare an ambush like that". Always giving advice to the rookies.

And on the very first mission, they had all died. All except the two rookies, who had made it out just fine and dandy.

They weren't the only ones who had survived of course; Meyers and the woman had made it out. But George was too engulfed by his own swirling emotions to spare a thought for them. He barely even remembered they existed, just dim grey ghosts at the back of his mind.

He felt strong arms embrace him, but he didn't return the gesture. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears cascading down his face as he shuddered and convulsed with the force of his sorrow.

George felt himself being lifted off the floor, the arms cradling him now as they began to move. The limbs felt so stiff and cold, like they weren't even alive. After a moment of uncaring indifference, George began to writhe in the alien's grasp, not caring where he was so long as he wasn't in the monster's arms.

Erebus stumbled slightly, unable to keep a good hold on the human and unwilling to grasp him any tighter. Managing to keep the squirming man in his arms, he delivered him to the bed and gently let him down on it, the human promptly turning to face away from his erstwhile friend, still convulsing with his sobs as he lay naked, curled up into a little ball of anguish and misery.

The medic felt the bed bend and bow as the alien climbed onto it; felt an arm wrapping around his waist to pull him into a snuggle. He thrust his arm out and shoved the alien away, off the bed and onto the floor, without so much as looking at him. He didn't want to be touched by it, by that _thing_.

There was more silence. For all George knew, knew, Erebus might kill him now. Now that the human had both emotionally and physically shoved him back and blocked him out. The xeno might well think that George hated him, and wanted him gone.

And he'd be right to think that.

A soft click sounded from somewhere close by; the bathroom door being pulled shut. Then he heard Erebus speaking quietly from the other side of the room, from about where the switchboard was located. He couldn't make out what was being said, and he didn't think that the words were meant for him. Either way, he didn't care.

A short time later he heard the door to the stateroom open and close, then someone walked over to the bed and sat down without a word.

"It's ok to cry." Came Barns's quiet whisper. "I did too."

There were no more words spoken between them that night. Just George's anguished wailing and Barns's quiet company.

And as time wore on, Erebus slithered under the bed and curled up into a tight little ball of his own, his heart tearing itself apart with confusion, fear, and self-loathing.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Welcome to Chapter Seven!

It has, once again, been a while. Sorry. I have college and I'm lazy. It's a killer combo.

I don't have much to say this time around.

I am infinity disappointed that Senator Sanders has suspended his presidential run, although I will stress that his name is still on the primary ballots, and he still wants your votes so that at the Democratic National Convention he can make an argument for the rest of the Democratic Party to adopt his program.

Aside from that, I hope you all are staying safe during this viral outbreak. For those of you who are fine I hope you stay that way, for those who are sick I hope you get well soon, and if you have lost a loved one I give you my most sincere condolences.

I don't have anything else to say, so on to the story!

*Manual Space*

Erebus didn't sleep that night. As a xenomorph, he didn't need much to begin with, but he could still rest when he wanted. But there was no rest for him. Only pain. He tried desperately to figure out what had gone wrong.

It was his own fault, he decided. His own. He had been too eager to have sex with George. He had made George upset. He hadn't read the mood right. He had said something wrong. He'd probably said many things wrong. It was all his fault, and the human didn't like him anymore. The human would want him gone now. Maybe he'd put the xeno in a cage and never see him again.

Erebus didn't care. He didn't think he'd care about anything ever again. His chest ached. His dome hurt. He wanted to scream and wail in agony like George. But he didn't make a whimper. He just sat, curled up with his dome between his legs, and waited for something to happen. He felt like he was falling; falling down a long dark tunnel with no end.

He wasn't sure what time it was. George had stopped crying a long time ago, but his breathing was still heavy; he hadn't gone to sleep. The human was just lying on the bed up above, unmoving.

Erebus could also hear the light breathing of Barns, who had pulled his feet up onto the bed and apparently gone to sleep at some point, probably because he had mistakenly believed that George had gone to sleep.

The xenomorph suppressed a moan of pure misery, his body growing cold as he descended into the darkness.

George didn't sleep that night. He needed it, of course, but he didn't get it. He couldn't sleep after what he had just done. It agonized him.

The death of his comrades had hurt. A lot. But his anguish only lasted a couple of hours. One good cry later, with Barns's company, George had come to terms with his new reality in that area. His squad was basically all gone. End of the story, time to move on. He had tried re-order his reality around that fact in a logical fashion., with mixed success.

To be sure, he wasn't over it and he wasn't fine about it. He probably would never fully recover, and he knew that. This would be a sore wound forever. But now he did accept the basic fact of it: his team was gone. That was reality now. He had to move forward and build anew, as hard as that would be.

So, by the time that Erebus was going through the process blaming himself, George's unhappiness about his squad was down to manageable levels. But it had been eclipsed by something much bigger: The xenomorph under the bed.

The medic's stomach was tied up into a knot. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, and he knew who had done it: he himself had. His squad; his friends and comrades in arms, were dead. It had been right to feel agony and sorrow over that. But he had also blamed and pushed away one of his friends who was still among the living.

'Oh god, I'm so sorry Erebus.' George sniffled, his eyes beginning to burn.

He couldn't help that his squad was dead; that was beyond his control. But he had no one to blame but himself for pushing perhaps his best friend in the world away like he had. That was entirely his doing.

The human began to loathe himself. Erebus had tried to comfort him, and what had he done? Tried to push him away, tried to prevent him from touching him, had literally turned his back on him. When the xenomorph had done the thing he best knew how to do and tried to snuggle with George to soothe him, he had _pushed his friend off the bed_.

George began to cry again; tears running down the same worn tracks on his cheeks. He felt like garbage. Utterly worthless trash. His insides were coiling back into agony.

What could he do now? Apologize and hope all would be forgiven? George considered himself an optimist, but even he knew that loved ones didn't just forgive you after you had abused them. And he had definitely abused Erebus.

He knew full well that the xenomorph was emotionally fragile. Erebus himself has made that clear when he had confided in George about his insecurities in dealing with human society the day before. He was impressionable and surrounded by strange things, in an environment he had no experience with, surrounded by creatures he was used to killing and had to learn to not be hostile to.

And right in the middle of all that, George had rejected him and physically shoved him away, leaving the xenomorph with no one to turn to.

The human sobbed louder, wallowing in pity for himself and his friend. Erebus hadn't deserved this. Even if the xeno had killed one or more of his squad-mates, which seemed unlikely given that he had been chasing George from almost minute one, then the human couldn't even blame him for doing so. Erebus had just been working with what he knew. Every human he had ever encountered up until that point had been malicious towards him, and the marines _were_ shooting at him.

George gulped. And then after they'd met, Erebus had been so brave and curious and kind. He'd spared George, carried him to safety, and then left his home; everyone and everything he had ever known, behind. Just to see the universe and to be with him.

The medic tried to swallow and choked. He felt indescribably guilty and ashamed. Look how he'd repaid the xenomorph's kindness. Grouping him in with the others who had killed his friends, and then pushing him away and rejecting him. George wanted to scream at himself, to slam his head against the wall until his skull burst. A fresh wave of tears poured down his face.

'You could still fix this.' A small voice said in his head.

'Fix it?' George sniffled again, 'How do you fix something like this? What, if I just go and apologize everything will just be all better and hunky-dory again? No way. Erebus probably hates me back now, and he should. I just emotionally abused him for no real fucking reason.'

'If you don't do something, you'll both continue to suffer. If you act now, you might be able to patch up the relationship before the divide becomes permanent.'

'And what if it doesn't work? What if he hates me now?'

'Then you will have tried, and no one can or will fault you for it. But you have to at least try.'

Logic. It was something George loved, and tried to live his life by. But it was hardly comforting at a time like this; when he was being driven almost entirely by emotion. The voice was right; it always was.

The human imagined looking down at himself from up above, the closest he could get to an impartial viewpoint at the present moment.

He looked very small; pathetic even. A sad little man curled up naked on his bed, idly fretting and wallowing in self-pity while his most devoted and loving friend suffered wordlessly just underneath him, in a strange place far from home with no familiar faces like Barns to comfort him.

George's feeling of worthlessness deepened.

He looked down at the mattress, now soaking wet with his second round of tears. He had to fix this. He had to try, at the very least. He owed it to Erebus to try.

"Erebus?"

The voice was soft, almost inaudible to the human ear, but the xeno heard it perfectly. He uncurled a little, pulling his head out from between his legs so he could see clearly.

George's head was hanging upside-down over the edge of the bed, looking at the xenomorph with a profoundly unhappy expression on his face.

'Stupid human.' Erebus thought instinctively. 'I could stick my little mouth through his head when he's upside down like that, or drag him under the bed and eat him alive-' The xeno abruptly cut off that train of thought. This was George he was thinking about. He'd never do anything like that, even after all the misery he'd been put through. He was silent while thinking this, making it look like he was just staring at George impassively for several seconds.

The human took a deep breath and slid the rest of his body off the bed, lying down on the floor flat on his stomach and looking at the xeno earnestly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away. You haven't done anything wrong."

Of all the things that Erebus was prepared for, that wasn't one of them. "What?" He asked in disbelief.

"I said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away, and I shouldn't have shamed you or rejected you because you're a xenomorph. You haven't screwed up or anything and it's all my fault I was dumb and stupid and mean and angry and I'm so sorry Erebus please forgive me I'm so sorry!" George's speech had steadily deteriorated until at the end he was babbling and blubbering almost incoherently, a fresh round of tears pooling in his eyes as his face flushed with shame and embarrassment. He was breathing heavily, almost gasping for air as he caught his breath. Finally, he reached his hand out toward Erebus, holding it half-way. "Please forgive me." He pleaded quietly.

Erebus was very quiet. He was thinking. He stared at George impassively, his emotions unbetrayed by his neutral countenance.

It had hurt, being pushed away. Erebus had thought that that was basically the end of his life, he had had no desire to continue living after losing his best friend. Just to wait and see what fate was to be his, and if nothing came, then he supposed he would have starved himself to death. Every moment had been agony.

And now, now George was trying to undo that. To undo all the pain that he had caused, and be friends again. He was sorry, most certainly, Erebus could tell by his scent, even though his tears and tone were more than enough to convince him.

The pain in the alien's head intensified as he tried to think. Could he forgive this? It had hurt more than anything, even what the scientists on the base had done to him, when George had rejected him. But he still cared about the human nonetheless, and as he realized that, a cascade of emotions and sensations poured into his mind. Compassion, desire, empathy, friendship, joy, and underneath it all, something even greater. The same thing he had felt for George back on the Costaguana

Slowly, cautiously, Erebus reached out a hand from the shadows under the bed, into the light beyond. His fingers brushed George's, and warmth began to flow back into him, down his arm, through his shoulder, and flooding his entire body. He felt alive again. Alive, and with direction and purpose. The pain in his dome suddenly abated, shattering into a million shards, then dissolving into smoke.

He smiled earnestly at George, who did his best to smile back. Then the xeno took a firm grasp on the human's outstretched arm and yanked him under the bed, George gasping with surprise as he was pulled into a warm, tight embrace. Erebus breathed in deeply; filling his lungs with the wonderful happy-sweet scent of his friend. The alien's limbs wrapped around him, as the long tail coiled around his waist, pulling him deeper into an affectionate hug.

George's breath caught in his throat as his friend suddenly pulled him under the bed. It was an instinctually negative experience, a child's worst nightmare, to be grabbed and dragged into some dark recess by a terrifying, toothy monster.

But the only emotion the marine felt as those long black limbs wrapped around him was joy. Overwhelming, overpowering joy, as his head slipped into place beneath the alien's dome. He wrapped his arms around the xeno's midsection and squeezed tightly, savoring the feel of the smooth, rubbery skin against his own. The tears that had been welling in his eyes spilled forth, running down his face and over his pained smile as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't help the tears, he was just so _happy_!

But the joy was tinged by shame. He had very nearly destroyed his friendship with Erebus. And despite their embrace, he knew the damage would last; it always did. Nothing time and care couldn't heal, but it would take some doing.

He felt something warm and wet against his face, and he cracked open an eyes to see Erebus's long, black tongue dutifully licking up and clearing away the tears as they ran down the marine's face. When they were all gone, the appendage retreated back into the alien's mouths, and he smiled at George. "Better?"

The marine sniffled, and then smiled back. "Yeah."

They were both silent for a few seconds, sharing their embrace.

"Hey, Erebus?" George said quietly. "Are you ok? After what happened?"

The xenomorph was quiet for quite some time after this. George could tell that he was considering the question.

"No. I am not." The alien said after about half a minute. "What you did hurt me, George. It hurt worse than anything the scientists did. It hurt worse than the rebar, and it hurt worse than when you healed me. I trusted a human, and was able to have complex conversations for the first time in my entire life. When I left the hive forever on the transport, you were everything to me. Everything. And then, when you did that thing last night… I didn't have anything or anyone left.

"And I told myself that it was my own fault, and I felt terrible. I couldn't care about anything anymore. Nothing mattered." Erebus shook his head. "Please… please please please don't do that to me ever again. I couldn't stand it. Please George."

"I never will." The human replied solemnly. "I swear, Erebus, I'll never do it ever again. No matter what you do or what comes between us, I'll never push you away." He snuggled in closer to his companion, who snuggled back.

After a few seconds of mutual cuddling, Erebus concluded: "So I guess no, I'm not ok. It hurt a lot, and it still does a little, because you betrayed me, and now I need to learn to trust you again." He took a deep breath. "I have to tell you that I'm also a bit mad at you. I understand that you were in pain because you lost your friends, but that's not a good reason to push away the friends you still have, especially not the ones who are trying to help you. That's _mean_!"

George blushed. "You're right, Erebus. You're absolutely right. My emotions got the better of me, and I acted without thinking. I'm sorry. I just…" The human trailed off. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't be a lame excuse for his abusive behavior. "A lot of emotions came all at once, and I had trouble dealing with them. That doesn't excuse me for how I acted, but it is an explanation."

"I understand." Erebus replied immediately, surprising George a bit. "When I first got free on the base, my emotions made me do really bad things to the humans. I was evil, George. What I did to them was evil and mean. But it felt so good, because I finally had power over the people that had wronged me. At least, that's how I saw it. But now I understand that it was bad and wrong. Because not all humans are evil. You and Thomas are very kind to me. I almost killed Tom, but now I think he likes me, even after what I did to him. We both need to learn to stop our emotions from making us do things."

"Yeah." The human agreed. "So… can we be friends again? Will our friendship ever get back to where it was before…?"

The xeno nodded. "As time passes, our friendship will heal."

"Thank you." George's voice lowered to a whisper. "I… I still want to be your mate. I still want to have sex with you sometime, if that's ok. Do you still want to?"

The alien looked at him incredulously. "Yes, silly!" He whispered back excitedly. "Of course I do! You're still handsome, you're really nice to me most of the time, and when you aren't, you apologize. We can do it whenever you want, and I'll be happy." He smiled.

"We'll see, ok?" George grinned, his shame and regret finally receding into the distant background of his mind. "Barns is above us right now, and he can't know, so we at least have to wait until he leaves."

In truth, George actually didn't mind the idea of his comrade watching them. He imagined the scene in his head, of him bent over the bed as Erebus bred and fucked him deeply, with Barns sitting a few feet away and stroking his cock.

The other marine was not, so far as George knew, attracted to men in any sexual capacity, but they had fooled around sometimes back in boot-camp, often engaging in mutual masturbation to let off some steam, and Barns had at one point told George that he did enjoy anal sex, albeit with women and not men.

The medic had a sneaking suspicion that, if given the opportunity, Barns would quite happily jack off to the sight of either the xeno or the human getting pounded. He would at the very least stick around to make lewd jokes and playfully tease George for being such a slut.

George huffed in amusement at the image.

"What's so funny?" Erebus asked.

"I'll tell you after Barns leaves." George whispered.

He felt the xeno's head nod in acknowledgment. Then the alien said "Hey, so, this floor is rather comfy, but I like the bed better. Can we move up there, or would that disturb Barns?"

"Barns is a heavy sleeper, we'll be fine. Follow me."

They crept out from under the bed, George in the lead with Erebus following behind. The marine felt a heavy and not-at-all subtle breath on his ass, and looked back at his companion, grinning cheekily. "Like what you see?" He whispered.

"Yeah, but I wish I could see it better." Came the quiet response.

"Later, later." The marine stuck out his tongue playfully. Carefully and quietly, he pulled himself up onto the bed, being careful not to disturb his comrade. Looking back at the xeno, he motioned for him to follow, and then scooted over to make room.

The alien climbed up in a rather spider-like fashion, the movement of his arms and legs being rather uncanny. It didn't faze George at all, but a less seasoned observer might have gotten the willies.

When they were both lying side by side, the human reached down and gingerly pulled the covers over them. Long, black arms pulled him into a spoon with the xenomorph, and he snuggled as close as he could to his friend, grateful to be in his arms once again.

With his troubles now sorted, and as close to dealt with as could be, the marine's mind felt wonderfully clear. A nagging fog that had settled over it ever since their escape was finally lifted, and he could see the whole universe clearly again. But right now, he didn't care about the whole universe. All he cared about was the wonderful, brave, caring creature who had his arms around him.

The human's eyes burnt, like he might cry again, but this time no tears came. He shifted against his friend, feeling the familiar, soft, rubbery texture of his skin against his own pinkish flesh. He felt right again, and he was indescribably grateful to the alien for forgiving him, even though he hadn't deserved it.

"Thank you, Erebus." George whispered.

"Of course." Came the reply. "I'd do anything for you, George."

The tears finally came, but this time gentle, a mere few drops running down the human's cheeks as he smiled. And with no terrible convulsions or worries to keep him awake, he promptly fell asleep.

Erebus held the sleeping human close, feeling his light, gentle heartbeat. He was so happy; too happy to even describe, really. His friend liked him again!

But there were other emotions mixed with the joy. The obvious ones, a tiny bit of fear that this was a dream or a delusion, and bitterness that George had rejected him at all in the first place. But there was also some mental reorganizing happening inside his dome.

Erebus shifted slightly, cuddling George closer. It was obvious to him now that the human wasn't perfect. Which in hindsight seemed obvious, no one was perfect. But Erebus had idolized him quite a bit, and had assumed George would always do right. Which was obviously untrue, as the xeno could now attest to.

He decided that he should have seen something like this coming; that it was really rather apparent that his friend wasn't perfect from the beginning. He remembered when George had held a gun to his head, but hadn't pulled the trigger. He hadn't been able to fully understand everything the human was saying back then, but now it was clear that George had been disappointed in himself for not being able to go through with it.

The alien shuddered a bit, and held his friend closer. To think that George had almost killed him. To think that he'd almost killed George. Several times. They had come so close to never truly meeting…

Erebus shoved those thoughts away forcefully, refusing to dwell on them. They didn't matter now. All that mattered was George, and the fact that the xeno was free now. Free of scientists, free of the queen; free! And he owed it all to George, the human who had been brave enough to heal him.

If Erebus could have cried, he would have. Tears of joy, like his precious George had shed. Nothing came, of course, so he just cooed happily, reveling in the sensation of his human's skin against his own. He felt like a spring was uncoiling inside him. He relaxed, and let himself slip into a happy, dreamless sleep.

###

Erebus awoke to a scream and a loud thump. He sat up immediately, curling an arm around George protectively and pulling back his lips to bear his teeth and hiss at the source of the sound.

The other side of the bed was empty, and after several seconds Barns scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily. He pointed at Erebus "You… you scared the shit out of me."

The xeno flicked his tongue out to taste the air. "It doesn't smell like I did."

George, who had been suddenly woken up by the scream and by being jostled by Erebus, laughed loudly at that. "I wish I'd seen the look on your face!" He wheezed.

Barns relaxed a bit, and began to smile. "It was… it was something. You should've heard the sound I made before the scream; it sounded like I was having a fucking stroke! _Eurgiegle_!" He made an imitation of the noise. "My eyes just about popped out of my head!"

George was cackling madly by now, rocking back and forth in Erebus's arms; the xeno himself starting to smile.

"I see you're in better straights this morning than you were last night." Barns observed when George had finally calmed down.

"Yeah… it was a rough bit, but I think I'm through the worst."

"I'm glad." Barns smiled gently. He climbed back onto the bed and waddled over to George on his knees, then wrapped his arms around his fellow marine and squeezed tightly. "I cried too, George. I miss them."

"I still have you, Barns. And now I have Erebus too. I'll miss the squad, but I still have friends to turn to. It'll get better from here."

Erebus felt George shift to hug his comrade back, and, not wanting to be left out, wrapped his arms around both marines and squeezed gently, purring with contentment. He felt Barns's shoulders tense slightly as he touched them, but after a few seconds of contact they relaxed again. He felt the other marine's arm come around and hug him too, and he purred louder. "Barns? Do you like me?"

The marine hesitated for a second. "Yeah. I mean, you still startle me, because I've been told to be afraid of xenomorphs for my entire life, but that'll go away as I get used to you."

They hugged quietly for a few more seconds.

"I like this." George said quietly. "Being hugged between my two favorite guys."

"Yeah, I bet being naked between two men is something that you really like, huh fuckboy?" Barns teased, making George snicker.

"What's a fuckboy?" Erebus asked, finally letting go of George to sit back on the bed in a relaxed position.

George scooted up again the headboard, propped a pillow up between his back and the cold wood; the naked marine leaning back with a relaxed expression, which admittedly didn't fit quite perfectly with the tear-stains that still streaked down his face. "It's vulgar slang for someone has a lot of casual sexual partners. Vulgar means 'rude', before you ask."

"Rude?" Erebus turned to look at Barns, frowning. "That wasn't very nice of you, Barns."

The marine in question cast a slightly apprehensive look at the xenomorph, looking him up and down in a way that Erebus interpreted as a threat-assessment.

"I mean, I'm not going to do anything to you, Barns, but still, you shouldn't be rude to people."

George looked on with an amused smile. "Erebus, I think I should explain something about insults; sometimes they're given as compliments, or as a joke. I know, it's really kinda silly, but when Barns called me a fuckboy, he was making a humorous comment about something that's true about me. He was trying to be funny. When a friend says an insult at you in a certain tone of voice and in a certain context, it's meant to be taken as a joke. Learning when and how that happens is a long process that takes humans a long time to pick up, so it's totally ok that you don't understand it yet."

Erebus took a long second to process this information, and then to grasp the deeper meaning of what had been said. "Barns, when are you going to leave?" He asked.

The marine frowned at him. "Have I overstayed my welcome?" He sounded slightly upset.

"No…?" Erebus was confused. "I'm just asking when you're going to leave. Or, did you not have a time to leave planned?"

George facepalmed.

"Ok, well, I can tell when I'm not wanted." Barns got up off the bed. "I hope you're feeling better George, I'll see you later, alright?" The marine started walking towards the door.

Erebus was just about to ask why he was leaving, when Barns stopped dead, and then slowly turned to face him with a look of realization on his face. "Oh… you were actually asking, not being passive-aggressive… Because you probably don't know what that is…"

"No, I don't." Erebus confirmed.

"Ok, so, here's another English lesson: Passive-aggressiveness is when you're trying to make people uncomfortable, upset or force them into doing something, while also trying to look like you're not doing that. Like, when you asked me when I was going to leave, passive-aggressive people say stuff like that as a way to just tell people that they should leave."

Erebus winced. "I'm so sorry Barns!" He got up and walked over to the marine, enveloping him in an affectionate hug. "I didn't want you to go away, I was just asking… In fact, I want you to come back." Sweeping an arm under Barns's legs, Erebus picked him up in his arms and carried him back to the bed.

"Woah!" The man in his arms cried out in surprise as he was suddenly lifted off the floor.

The xenomorph climbed up onto the bed again and set Barns down on the other side, then retreated back to his own side, laid down on his flank, and did his best impression of a friendly smile at the marine. "Sorry."

Barns smiled back. "No problem. You know the nice thing about yourself, Erebus? When you make a mistake you say sorry and try to fix it. I know too many people that just ignore their mistakes."

The alien cocked his head. "What would ignoring my mistakes accomplish? Usually the longer I ignore something the worse it gets."

Barns looked at him for several long seconds, then he said, "Erebus, you are very logical. That's not an insult or a compliment, it's a fact. You say what you know to be true, and you say it without bias or hesitation. Be warned: most people are not like that. Most people's idea of truth is influenced by their worldview." He said all this in a flat, unemotional tone; speaking plainly and clearly.

"I don't think I have a worldview." Erebus confessed. "Not yet, at least. I don't know enough about the world to have a view about it. I mean, I don't know enough about the universe to have a view, since I think 'world' refers to planets specifically."

"'World' is a word that is both metaphorical and literal," George explained, "a world can mean a planet, but a person's world usually refers specifically to the objects and ideas that are important to them, since most people don't own entire planets." The medic turned his head and smirked at Barns, "And what was that you were saying yesterday about Erebus and I getting a room? Why don't you two get one; you're chatting it up like philosophy professors over there."

Erebus, now knowing what that phrase meant, looked Barns up and down, analyzing his physical appearance; he flicked his tongue out to taste the other man's scent, which was like George's but a bit duller and deeper, less defined. "I think I could have sex with you, Barns. You look good and you smell healthy." The xenomorph was only half-serious this time, and he showed it by sticking out his tongue playfully. He understood that George was joking now, but it _had_ been a good few hour since he's cum last, and a few days since his last proper sex, before the marines had arrived on the base.

If Barns actually said yes, well, he certainly wasn't going to turn the other marine down.

Barns laughed. "Oh boy, you're excitable! Sorry Erebus, but I don't have sex with males; I'm straight."

The alien made a disappointed whine. "Aww! But that's so limiting! Why wouldn't you want to have sex with other males?"

Barns looked over at George questioningly "I take it that you haven't explained sexuality to him yet?"

The other marine shrugged. "It hadn't come up." Which was true; despite all the talk about sex, George had yet to explain how sexuality worked to the alien.

Barns turned back to Erebus, who was sitting patiently and expectantly, waiting for the explanation he by now knew was coming.

The marine looked at him for a moment, blinked, and then turned back to George. "You know, it would probably be better if you were the one to explain it, seeing as you're the one with the big fancy doctorate and everything. And you're probably the one who spends the most time thinking about it, out of the two of us."

George looked at Erebus. "Essentially, sexuality is what gender you primarily want to have sex with. I am homosexual; which means that I am basically exclusively attracted to humans of my same gender; men. Barns here is heterosexual, which means that he is basically exclusively attracted to the opposite gender; women."

"I like to have sex with both males and females." Erebus said, "So what does that make me?"

"Bisexual. It means you like both."

"Is that common among humans?"

"No. It is not. Most humans are straight; only mating with someone of the opposite gender."

Erebus frowned. "Homosexuality and heterosexuality seem rather boring. Wouldn't people get bored of the same thing eventually?"

"Not really." George said, "Even the most sexually active humans rarely have sex more than just once a week on average. Unless you've got a dedicated partner who you spend a lot of time with, it takes a while to find someone you think is attractive and set up a time and date with them to meet up and actually get down to it. Human lives are busy, actually being able to put aside a few hours to have sex is a treat, even if it's with the same person or people."

Erebus absorbed this information thoughtfully. "I think I will have to see human society myself before I can have enough information about it to have opinions, then. No offense, but you can't seem to give me enough information all at once."

"That's fair." George admitted.

"Yeah." Barns looked at the bedside clock. "Listen, I gotta go if I want to get any breakfast before my shift starts, so I'll be seeing you guys later." The man stood, accepted his companions' good-byes, and saw himself out.

Erebus waited for the door to close, then turned to George, several questions swirling in his mind all at once. "Is it normal for humans to be naked in the company of other humans?"

George appeared unfazed by this question. "No, not except for sex, and a few other reasons, but mostly no."

"Why was Barns ok with you being naked?"

"Several reasons; he and I are close friends, for starters, and in the military people have to get naked in front of each other more than usual, like for medical exams and public showers and stuff, so we're used to it. And Barns and I have jacked each other off before, so seeing each other naked isn't really very shocking after that."

Erebus cocked his head. "Didn't he say he was straight? Why would he want to be jacked off by another male then?"

"There aren't as many females in the military as there are males; so his options for sexual relief were rather limited. I should also explain that sexuality isn't set, per say. There aren't just three solid positions; sexual orientation exists along a scale. Some people are _mostly_ straight, but open to sex with the same gender if they meet just the right person; things like that."

The xenomorph accepted that information and processed it. He asked what a "scale" was, got a satisfactory answer, and kept thinking. Finally, he said "So, would I be in the middle of that scale? If heterosexual is at one end, and homosexual is at the other, and I like both males and females, I would be in the middle, right?"

"Yeah, about." The marine confirmed.

Erebus smiled. Not because he was happy to be in the middle, but because he was happy to know where he was at all. He liked this; learning more about himself. It made him feel more comfortable in his own skin. He looked back up at George, still smiling. He didn't think he was quite ready to get up for the day yet, so… "George? Do you want to snuggle for a while?"

The human smiled. "Sure!" He moved the pillow back down and beckoned Erebus to join him as he lay back down on the mattress.

The xenomorph made a happy cooing sounds and scooted over to the human and gently wrapped him up in his arms, pulling himself close as he felt the marine pull the covers up over them, wrapping them both in warm softness.

Erebus was silent for several long minutes, mulling over another thought thread that had formed in his mind during their conversation with Barns. It was insidious, and left him feeling a tiny bit… unstable. "George," he said at last, "when Barns made that joke about you having lots of sexual partners, and then I asked him when he was going to leave; what I wanted was to know when I could have you alone to ask something."

"Ok, ask away."

The alien hesitated, then spoke his mind. "Do you have lots of sexual partners?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'm pretty promiscuous; I like to sleep around a bit. Why do you ask?"

"Am I special to you?"

George was facing away from the alien; allowing himself to be spooned, so Erebus couldn't see the expression on his face. This worried him somewhat when his friend didn't immediately answer. After a moment's hesitation, there came "… Yeah. I can safely say that you're the only xenomorph who I've gotten to know on a personal level, and the only one I've ever even thought about having sex with. Is that what you mean?"

"… No." The answer was very quiet. "I mean, am I special to you out of all the other people you've slept with?"

George turned in the alien's arms to face him then, and Erebus was relieved to see that the unknown expression on his face was in fact an amused smile. "Erebus…" The human seemed to be almost holding in laughter, "Are you insecure about your relationship status with me?"

"If that's the proper way to communicate the feelings I have, I guess so…" He replied cautiously.

"I think that's the proper way, unless I'm really off in my reading of the situation. Here, if it makes you feel better, you should know that you're easily one of the most special, kind-hearted, wonderful people I've ever been with, in any capacity; be it friend or sex partner."

That did make Erebus feel better, but it still wasn't quite what he was looking for. There was something strange and new he was feeling towards George; he had felt it once before when crawling through the ventilation of the enemy ship, but hadn't been able to put a name to the emotion. He still couldn't, in fact, but now seemed about as good a time as any to start asking about it.

He took a deep breath, and started explaining himself. "When we were on the enemy ship, and I was crawling through the vents to get to you, it occurred to me that we might really die there, if things didn't work out. And I didn't hate that idea. I thought of us being together, and it made me happy. I wanted us to die together. Then I realized that it wasn't death specifically, but just being with you. I wanted to be with you, wherever we were or whatever was happening. I felt such a strong attachment to you. It was like… very big friendship." He finished lamely. "I don't know a word for it. Is there a word for it?"

George's smile had faded, and he was looking up at the xenomorph with what was very clearly forced neutrality. Under that he seemed more than a little uncomfortable. "Love." He said quietly, breaking the alien's gaze and instead staring at the lithe, black chest in front of him. "I think the emotion you're referring to is love."

Erebus was pleased that there was indeed a word for what he had felt, but he didn't express his happiness. He had gotten much better at reading the room over time, and he could tell that something was bothering his companion. "What's wrong?" He asked quietly.

The human sighed and gently rested his head against the alien's chest. "Love is a very special emotion. People usually don't tell other people that they love them until the are already several months into a relationship at least. It's a very strong emotion, and it makes people do all kinda of silly things. It's serious, is what I mean. And, if I understood you correctly just now, you told me that you love me." He lapsed into uncomfortable silence, as if trying and failing to think of a follow up to his explanation.

"Is it bad that I love you?"

"No, but it is a little early in our relationship to tell me. I'm not upset with you, and you're not at fault or in trouble. I just haven't told you anything about this part of human society yet."

"… I am not supposed to be feeling this emotion about you yet?"

George stared down at the bedsheets, looking conflicted. When he spoke, it was slowly and with measured tone: "It's an emotion that society expects you to feel, but not tell the person that you feel it for about for a while."

Erebus stared at him. "Why?"

Again the same measured pace and tone: "If I had to guess, it's because when people rush into relationships mistakenly taking good first impressions for true love, those relationships often end in heartbreak and emotional trauma. So society as a collective has decided that it is wise to withhold declarations of love until further into the relationship, so that said heartbreak and trauma won't happen as often; so that people have enough time to sort out their feelings and decide if it's really love, or just a good first impression. And I say 'guess' because I don't really know, that's just my rationalization of it. That's how I think it happened. All I actually know is that withholding declarations of love for at least a few months is what society expects."

Erebus cocked his head. "Why are you talking like that?"

This time George spoke faster, as if he was on more stable ground. "I'm trying to avoid saying things that I don't actually know for certain, which is hard when talking about something like love, because there's a lot of talk about it but not a lot of information of knowledge about it. It's a very nebulous concept that means different things to different people, and so it's kind of hard to talk about in a professional way. At least, that's how I see it. And I don't want to give you the wrong ideas about it, so I'm trying to be careful with what language I use."

"Ok…"

George's serious exterior broke down and he tried to suppress a laugh at the alien's hesitant, deadpan tone. The creature was clearly not overly excited by the explanation of love he had just been given.

"So, since I just told you that I love you anyway, now what do we do?"

"I'd recommend pausing it there and leaving the topic to rest for a few months while we get to know each other better; see how fond of each other we really are before going into a more solid commitment."

Erebus was quiet for a moment. "Ok." He said, in a voice barely above a whisper. He felt more than a little rejected. He was hoping that George would feel the same way about him, or that he would at least like what the xeno had said, but it didn't seem that either of those was happening.

"… Are you ok?" George asked, concern showing on his face.

"I think so. I was just kinda hoping that you'd feel the same way about me."

The medic sighed. "I like you a lot Erebus, but it's a little early to call it love. I know how you feel; it can hurt when other people don't immediately reciprocate your feelings for them."

"Reciprocate?"

"To do for you what you have done for them. For me to reciprocate your feelings would mean that I would tell you that I loved you back."

"And do you?" Erebus asked pointedly.

George looked profoundly uncomfortable. He looked away, breaking eye contact to stare at the mattress. "I think we're very good friends, and someday in the future we could very well be lovers. But right now it's too early to say."

"When will that be?" The xenomorph pushed.

"I don't know, ok?" The human was starting to sound a bit exasperated. He grew quiet, and his voice softened. "But just because we can't be lovers yet doesn't mean that we can't be close."

The xenomorph stopped pushing, realizing that he might be going a bit too far. He reached out and took George's hand in his own. "It doesn't really matter, I guess." Which was a lie; it did matter to him, very much in fact, but he pushed that down. He could and would look past it. "As long as we're friends, and we trust each other, and we care about each other, I'm happy. I just want to be close to you, and whatever we call it is fine. If it's friendship, so be it."

The human looked up at him with a small, guilty smile. "Thanks, Erebus. I want to have that with you too. I'm glad we're friends, and I'm glad we met." His hand gently gripped the alien's, and they leaned together to hug. It lasted a good while too; Erebus feeling the human's fingers gently splaying out on his back, as if really trying to feel his skin and carapace.

"I'm sorry about what I did yesterday." George murmured. "I was horrible to you, and you didn't deserve any of it."

"It's ok. I forgive you. You were hurting and weren't thinking right. It's fine now." Erebus reiterated comfortingly. He gently cooed in George's ear. "We're still friends."

"Thank you." The reply was quiet, and Erebus felt the fingers clutch at him a little.

The moment dragged on into minutes, as they relaxed into each others grip. It was George who finally split the hug apart. He was still smiling though. "I'd love to continue that, but my legs are getting a bit numb after sitting in this bed for so long. Want to go out and see the ship?"

Erebus smiled back. "Sure!"

George went to get dressed, first stopping in the bathroom to wash his face, then going to the wardrobe and pulling on his combat uniform; a shirt with a strange pattern of various shades of green, and a pair of pants with the same pattern. Erebus had seen it before, but didn't understand why the colors were like that.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that pattern on your clothes?"

The human looked down at them. "Oh, that's what you mean. It's camouflage. It's supposed to make me blend in with my surroundings better when I'm deployed in the field and fighting; make me harder to find. This variant is supposed to make me blend in with trees and bushes."

"Oh."

George finished getting dressed and then walked over to the door. He opened it, and Erebus followed him out into the hallways of the ship.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello again! It's been a while, hasn't it?

I don't really have an excuse; deadlines and schedules just aren't my thing, you know? Anyway, this is the last chapter that's going to be set on the Hermes for a while, I just needed to tie up some plot threads and get a few others into motion. Next time, there will be more exciting things happening! Until then, beauties!

*Manual space*

Erebus stared out the window at the pitch blackness beyond. Aside from a dull, hazy, bluish glow coming from just beyond sight at the front of the ship, there was nothing apparently outside. He was disappointed; he'd been hoping to spot the Costaguana, which he had been told was just half a kilometer away. Under normal physical circumstances, he could have seen it. But, apparently, traveling faster than the speed of light made physics… strange.

The xenomorph was seated in a new room. It reminded him of the mess hall, but it was more ornate. Apparently it was a "lounge". There was a solid wooden table-structure that George had explained was called a "bar", and what he was currently sitting in was a structure called a "booth". He had the "window seat", and George was sitting in the "aisle seat". The window was to the right of Erebus, and he was to the right of the marine.

Across from Erebus sat Thomas. He was staring out the window too, and was also occupying the window seat on his side of the table. Sitting next to him in the aisle seat was Barns.

Barns and George were deep in their own conversation, leaving Erebus and Thomas to their own devices. Which in practice meant them wordlessly staring out the window, since none had anything to really say to the other beyond their greeting an hour before. That was when George had come to get the young scientist from the brig with permission from Meyers, on the condition that he not be allowed to enter restricted areas and be accompanied at all times wherever he went, with the added stipulation that he must return to his cell when George or Barns were no longer able to escort him around.

Erebus had been staring out the window for about four minutes. He had rather been hoping to see the captured enemy ship, the Costaguana, slipping through space alongside them, even though he'd already been told it was impossible due to the physical behavior of light at the speed they were traveling. The explanation hadn't made much sense to him because he didn't have the necessary knowledge about physics, but he'd appreciated it anyway.

He looked around without moving his head, glad for the 360 degree cone of vision that his dome provided for him. As he observed his three companions, he gradually noticed something: Barns and George were positioned in such a way as to trap him and Thomas. They weren't really trapped, if they really wanted they could crawl out any number of ways. But if either of them wanted to exit the booth, they'd have to ask the person sitting next to them.

It was… "insidious". That was one of the words he had learned today, and he was quite glad he had. He liked learning things, and he liked putting that new knowledge to use even more.

Yes, that's what it was: insidious. An insidious entrapment.

Erebus didn't mind this situation; the need to keep Tom where he couldn't run away was obvious, and although he felt pretty sure that George's goal wasn't to trap him per-say, it was probably a calculated placement to keep the other people in the lounge calm. Having George between Erebus and the other people there probably made them feel more comfortable.

Erebus turned his head slowly to face Thomas. He didn't say or do anything, just stared at him wordlessly. Somehow, humans always knew when they were being stared at. Eventually. Sometimes it just took them a while…

Finally the researcher got the hint and his pupils flicked to the corner of his eyes, watching the xeno nervously. He turned his head to face him, a look of trepidation on his face.

George and Barns were still engrossed in their conversation. It was about something called "Star Trek". The same thing they'd been jabbering about all afternoon. In fact, when they'd all gone to retrieve Tom from the brig, the two marine-humans had spent a full two minutes outside of his cell flipping a coin to decide who got to "tell the reference story" to him.

This happened over the objections of Erebus, who argued letting the young man out of a cell he clearly hated was more important than a story.

When they'd finally let the poor man out, they had led him with sealed lips and huge grins up to the lounge, a journey that Thomas had obviously found immensely stressful, as he had no idea where these two men he didn't know very well were leading him, and why they seemed so excited about it. They had then stopped in front of the lounge, and Barns had gotten to explain how the sticky note plastered next to the door which read "Ten Forward" was a reference to Star Trek, and how funny they thought that was.

Thomas had let out a rather relieved "Oh", and quickly smiled and gave a half-hearted laugh, which neither Barns nor George had seemed to notice.

Erebus had felt quite bad for him then. The entire way up to their destination, Thomas had been sweating lightly and sending off moderate amounts of fear hormones that clouded the air around him. They were so thick that Erebus was surprised he could only taste-smell them and not actually see them. He resolved to tell George about it when they were alone again.

And so here they sat, the scientist and the xenomorph, staring at each other as the two oblivious marines continued to jabber on about something that Thomas clearly didn't care about.

The alien slowly raised his hands and rested them on the table, which drew Tom's attention to them. With his left hand, he discreetly pointed at Barns, then George. Then he flattened that hand and set it upright on the table, forming a wall. Then, with his right hand, he pointed at Thomas, and then himself. Setting that hand up upon two fingers, he made it walk a few centimeters across the table and bump into the hand-wall, which blocked it.

Thomas stared for a moment, then he smiled. A real smile, with his lips drawing back just a bit to show his teeth, and a strong huff of breath escaping from his throat.

Erebus did his best to mimic the reaction and smile back, limiting how much of his teeth he showed and being careful to not curl his lips too much.

Pride radiated through the xeno's body; he'd done what George had tried and failed to do, he'd made Thomas laugh!

"What are you guys smiling about over there?" The aforementioned marine was looking at them with a bemused expression.

"Nothing." Thomas lied.

Erebus effortlessly followed his lead "The view is pretty."

George looked outside skeptically, "It's black…"

"With some blue!" The xeno pointed out. He felt a strange thrill in his chest. He was lying; lying to George. And getting away with it! He valued the human's companionship more than anything, but there was something he had with Thomas now too. A different kind of intimacy. They understood each other; two outsides stuck inside.

"If you say so." George smiled, apparently amused by the xenomorph's enthusiasm. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Sure!" The xeno looked to Thomas. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Yeah, sure."

They got up from their table, George picking up Meyers cane, which he'd taken to using to help himself walk, and left the lounge, heading in the direction of the mess hall.

It occurred to Erebus that, for how long he'd been onboard the Hermes, he hadn't really done much. He enjoyed the time he spent with George, and now with Thomas and Barns, but it was beginning to feel dull. Back in the hive there had never been a quiet moment; he and the other drones were either working or fucking in a big pile somewhere.

As the xeno accompanied his companions, he stopped focusing his surroundings for a moment and retreated into his mind to think. George had told him a lot about human society, and he'd learned even more himself through observation. He was aware of the fact that there were large gaps in his knowledge, but that wasn't his concern at the moment. Erebus considered human society, and what he'd learned about it, and concluded that it was rather… reserved. For all their apparent creativity and intelligence, they seemed awfully prone to being bound by rules that the alien thought were silly. They obviously had the ability to keep their living spaces at very comfortable temperatures and atmospheres, as was evident by the ship he was in, and yet even in these spaces they insisted on wearing clothing; multiple layers of it, in fact.

The humans apparently did not like seeing each other naked outside of very specific circumstances. Erebus found this odd; he had never worn clothes and felt very comfortable with others seeing his body. It didn't have anything to do with the ability to hide his genitals within his slit; showing them to other xenomorphs who had an interest in mating with him had never worried him at all. And it was somewhat clear that it was specifically the reproductive organs that humans seemed to dislike having in the open. Erebus had picked that up from context clues when spending time around George back when they were still trapped in the reservoir; how the human had been perfectly willing to take off his shirt, but when it came to the xeno being curious about that was in his pants he had quickly gotten agitated.

So, then, George had apparently told him an untruth earlier, or a partial one at least, when he had said that clothing helped humans regulate their body temperatures and signified social status. When they were inside their structures, humans could regulate the temperature of their surroundings just fine, and there were clearly easier ways to signify social status than by shrouding one's entire body in cloth. So far as Erebus could tell, this obsession with clothing was apparently due to what George had hinted at earlier; that humans and their society were in fact somewhat ashamed of sex, and of their sexual organs themselves. At least some of them were, George, Thomas, and Barns didn't seem or mind being naked or being in the presence of naked people quite so much, but their inhibitions were still apparent in their interactions with each other.

This whole mess was meaningful to Erebus for two reasons. Firstly, it highlighted to him in no uncertain terms just how different human society and xenomorph society was. Whereas xenos would have an orgy at the slightest suggestion, humans seemed, for the most part, very reluctant to even acknowledge that sex was a thing that happened, outside of speaking with close friends or of when they were performing the act itself.

Secondly, and in Erebus's mind more importantly, is showed that George wasn't perfect. It seemed obvious in hindsight, but after his friend's very dramatic breakdown and temporary rejection of the xeno, he had slowly begun to internalize that his human companion wasn't a shining paragon of perfection. He had flaws and he had weaknesses, and he could lash out in moments of irrationality. And now, he had given the xeno what seemed to be false information about why humans acted like they did. It was almost certainly accidental, but still.

The idea that his closest friend, guardian, and teacher in the galaxy could be wrong was a little upsetting for the alien. He couldn't just base his reality solely around George's words anymore, since it was clear that they were fallible. Erebus sighed lightly. It was… unsettling to have to change his view of his friend like this, to make him, as he saw it, less good. To downgrade his opinion of a person he felt so strongly for. He knew it was the correct thing to do in the interest of finding what was true and what wasn't, but that didn't make it less uncomfortable. It had been so easy to just accept whatever George said, even after the human himself had essentially warned him that he wasn't perfect when he talked about not taking it for granted that he and the marines were the good guys. Now Erebus felt less anchored; he didn't have a solid reference point to view reality from. It was a little scary. More than a little, actually.

While he'd been going on this little thought-tangent, he had traversed the ship with his… friends. Yes, that's what they were, friends. His friends. It felt odd to actually think of them like that, but it was true. Anyway, he'd traversed the ship with his friends, and they were now entering the mess-hall. He decided to put his rambling train of reasoning away for now and refocus on the new situation.

The room wasn't deserted this time; there were dozens of people there eating lunch. The room went silent as he and the others entered, a phenomena that he was becoming more and more used to as time went on. He had gone from being just another hive drone to being the center of attention at nearly all times, and he didn't mind, really. He just hoped that eventually people would stop staring.

His long tail dragged behind him limply as he thumped forward behind George, following him to the lunch counter. He mimicked his friend's actions in every way, observing him closely. He picked up his tray with the same swift, semi-bored gesture, placed a bowl on top of it, and filled the bowl with "clam chowder". He knew neither what clams were nor what chowder was, but apparently it was what they were eating today.

Following George over to an empty table, he sat down on the same side as George, and Barns and Thomas sat down opposite them. And then they ate.

George glanced over at the xeno sitting next to him. It wasn't immediately clear because of the creature's dome, but he was pretty sure that Erebus was watching him. He shifted how he was holding his spoon, sliding a finger along its length as if adjusting his grip and watched as Erebus did the same a few seconds later.

Yep, definitely watching.

"How are you doing, Erebus?"

"I'm doing well. How are you doing?"

George smiled. "Good."

"You mean 'well'".

"I mean I don't care that much about grammar." George smiled wider, amused.

Erebus smiled back, then continued spooning chowder into his mouth. He looked so… person-like. Despite being tall and pitch-black and a xenomroph, his mannerisms had shifted to much that at times he acted just like a human. Like like right now, as he was peacefully and quietly spooning food into his mouth.

George's feelings about that were… mixed. He was happy that the xeno was fitting in, it would probably make his life easier in the long run. On the other hand, he didn't want to see his friend's personality erased and replaced with… humanity. It was a hard feeling to explain, but George was worried that if Erebus became too human-like, he would stop being… himself.

It was complicated, ok?

Thomas looked up from across the table. "Hey, Erebus, do you ever feel homesick?"

"What's 'homesick'?"

"Do you ever feel that you want to go home really badly?"

"Home? To my hive, you mean?"

Corporal Meyers had decided against nuking the hive when they'd left; since there was no one else on the planet and if the rest of the xenomorphs were as intelligent as Erebus, then he would effectively be committing a war-crime by killing a non-combatant group that had merely been fighting back against a perceived threat to their home. And it wasn't really his place to decide whether the xenomorph hive was "worthy" of living or dying. So they'd left them be and then shipped out.

Thomas nodded.

Erebus was silent for a moment. "Not really. Sometimes, I guess. Less that I want to return home, and more that I want to go back to what is familiar; what I know. But it doesn't last very long. What I knew seems pretty boring when compared to everything I could learn by being here.

"Do you every miss anyone in your hive?"

"No. We didn't have the… language capabilities to really develop complex friendships." Erebus was using bigger and more complicated words now; his English skills having some a long way since having first met George. "There were a few other drones that I was emotionally attached to, but none that I miss, per-say. There was a warrior that I looked after for a while. He was…" Erebus seemed at a loss for words for a moment, "… unhappy after some fighting. He seemed very…" It happened again, "… sad. I kinda miss him. I hope he's ok."

The xeno was quiet for a moment, before returning to his meal, as if nothing had happened.

When they had finished eating, the two marines and Erebus escorted Tom back to his little cell in the bowels of the ship, before Barns excused himself to go attend to his own duties.

As George and Erebus were making their way back up to their room, the xeno started speaking: "Tom was afraid when you were taking him up to the lounge."

"Really?" George was incredulous. "Afraid of what?"

"I don't know, but I could smell it on him. I think he was worried that you and Barns were going to do something bad; we haven't all known each other very long after all."

The marine internally cringed. Looking back, he was pretty sure that he could remember Tom's laugh at the 10-forward joke being a little underwhelming and sheepish. "Shit… I've probably made a fool of myself." His cheeks got warm as he remembered something he'd learned a long time ago about comedy: inside jokes were, by definition, only funny to the people that were in on them. "Thanks for telling me though."

Erebus paused for a moment, before suddenly changing topics: "Remember when I was talking about the… sad warrior?"

"Yeah?"

"The female marine that was with you was a lot like him. Very afraid, very… sad. I don't have the right words for it, I think. The fighting wasn't good for them."

George slowed to a stop, his eyes drifting closed as a frown crossed his face. He breathed in, then let it out in a long sigh. PTSD. That was probably what Erebus was talking about. The warrior-xeno and the female marine probably both had it. Probably. Possibly. Maybe. He wasn't a psychologist, and it was pretty rude to speculate about other people's mental state.

"So, I think what you're talking about is a mental disorder called PTSD; post-traumatic stress disorder." Knowing that Erebus would ask what the words meant, he didn't even pause before explaining: "Post means 'after', so post-traumatic stress disorder is a stress disorder you get after something traumatic happens to you. A disorder, in this case, means a condition that affects your mind in a negative way. In the case of PTSD, the effects are varied between people, but some common symptoms are stress, lingering unpleasant memories, and some other stuff.

"Has-" Erebus started to ask something, then cut himself off and snapped his mouth shut again.

"What?"

"It was a stupid question."

"There is no such thing as a stupid question, only an unnecessary question."

"It was an unnecessary question."

"Well now I'm curious about it, so humor me."

"I was going to ask if the female marine had had a traumatic experience, then I realized why that was an unnecessary question." Erebus tilted his head to stare at the ground. "Now I feel bad, like it's my fault. But it's not my fault." His mouth straightened out into a harsh line as he frowned. "That's annoying; why do I feel bad for something I didn't do?"

"I don't know." George responded truthfully. "Sometimes I feel like that too. Thanks for telling me about her though, I'll go ask how she is, after I figure out her name…"

Her name, as it turned out, was Amelia. George had had to resort to discreetly looking at the crew registry to find it, because he was too embarrassed to admit he had forgotten it. Now he was standing in front of the door to her cabin, wondering what to say and how to say it. He'd left Erebus back in their room, figuring that if the alien attack had given Amelia PTSD, she wouldn't be comfortable with the xeno's presence.

Finally, he just settled in a simple script to stick with, and he knocked on her door. There was silence for several long moments, before he heard a heavy scraping noise, the sound of a lock clicking open. The door swung inward to reveal the inhabitant of the room.

Her buzz-cut was a little unruly, but then, so were his and Barns's. After their little adventure on the base, keeping their hair in order hadn't been a major priority. But her hair was the least of his concerns. There were dark, heavy circles around her eyes; she looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Otherwise she looked alright; her posture was a straight and rigid as ever.

"Hi, Amelia." George smiled, then wondered if he wasn't supposed to smile, but realized that it was too late to turn back and just kept smiling. "So, I haven't seen you around the ship, I was wondering if you were ok."

"I don't think I am, George."

Oh shit, she remembered his name. Now he felt even worse for not remembering hers.

"I think I have PTSD from the xenomorph attack. I've had nightmares about it every night, I can barely sleep. I can't stop thinking about it, wondering if there isn't something I could've done differently. I've heard that your xenomorph… friend is pretty nice, but every time I think about him I get the creepy crawlies. I always ask the bridge if you guys are on deck before I go out. I have nothing against either of you, but I'm worried that if I see Erebus, I think that's his name, I'll have an episode or a breakdown or something. I lock my door and prop it shut with a chair every time I'm in my room because I have this terrible fear that he'll come get me. I can't even shower with the curtain closed anymore, because I'm afraid something will sneak around outside."

"… Oh…" That was a lot of information, a lot faster than he'd thought she'd share it. "I'm really sorry; is there anything I can do?"

"Not unless you can snap your fingers and make the PTSD go away."

"… I can't… do that."

Amelia sighed. "I'm sorry, that was meant to be funny. It's a weird thing to joke about, I probably threw you off."

"No worries, it's fine. Have you told Meyers?"

"Yeah."

"What'd he say?"

"He'll have me evaluated when we get back to Steele."

"Ok." George stood there awkwardly. "Should I let you get some rest? If it makes you feel safer, I can come in and watch over you while you sleep…" He cringed. "I'm sorry, that sounded weird."

"No, you're fine. I appreciate it. I think I'm good though."

"Ok, just let me or Barns know if there's anything we can do, or if you want to hang out sometime. We're… kinda all we have left, now…" The simple act of acknowledging that the rest of the team was gone was painful, but he got through it with only a minor stutter.

"Thank you." Amelia smiled weakly and closed the door, locking it and nosily dragging the chair back into place.

George sighed, then made his way back to his room.

When he got there, he opened the door to find Erebus sitting on the floor, picking at the white plaster on his chest. It had started to crack and peel, and the xeno was picking bits of it off with his nimble fingers. There was already a decent amount of it scattered across the floor.

George could see a thin, dark green scar covering the xeno's midsection where the gash had used to be. It looked harmless enough, but if any of it was at all wet or liquid-y, it could cause serious damage to the ship, not to mention to himself. "Hey, Erebus, are you sure you should be doing that? We don't know if you're fully healed yet."

"I feel fine." The xeno replied nonchalantly, looking up at the human. "It doesn't hurt at all to move anymore. I think I'm mostly healed."

"Can you feel the gash for me; does it feel wet or damp?"

The xeno reached a hand up and rubbed his fingers up and down the scar. "It feels dry to me."

"Ok… I hate to ask, but would you be ok sleeping on the floor for tonight? I trust you, I really do, but I desperately don't want to get hurt if you start bleeding. I can get you an extra set of blankets and pillows and stuff."

"It's ok." The xeno replied, smiling. "I understand. I don't want to hurt you."

"Thanks. You're also going to have to clean up all those little plater-bits you've scattered everywhere."

"But that'll take forever!"

"You made the mess, you can clean it up." George smirked, prompting Erebus to stick out his tongue playfully. They both laughed, then set about cleaning up.

It didn't take them too long, working together as they were, and once they were done they sat together on the edge of the bed, George leaning his head against Erebus's shoulder. They were silent, once again simply relaxing in each other's company. There was a blissful quality to their duality that both enjoyed; on a very deep level, they trusted each other.

George set his hand on the xeno's thigh, and he responded by setting his own hand on top of the marine's, squeezing it gently. George closed his eyes, and the Hermes raced on towards Steele.


End file.
